


Bright Blue

by Narcissos



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternative Universe - Starstruck (2010), Bodyguard!Shiro, F/F, F/M, Hallura owns my ass, Keith and Shiro are Adoptive Siblings, M/M, Matt is a producer for the show, Slow Burn, The Disney Original Movie, Trans Female Pidge | Katie Holt, Voltron is a tv show made by Netflix, actor!lance, college student!keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2018-12-22 18:51:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11973513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narcissos/pseuds/Narcissos
Summary: In which Keith is a college student, Lance is a celebrity and their paths just keep crossing.OR the Starstruck AU nobody wanted.discontinued because fuck voltron.





	1. episode 1

**Author's Note:**

> title comes from the song by daniela andrade of the same name.

"Holy _shit_!"

Keith wakes up to screaming coming from somewhere inside his tiny apartment. Instantly, he's on the offence, scrambling out of bed and dashing down the hall to see what was wrong.

Instead of a thief or a murderer or something, he finds his roommate inches away from the television, amber eyes shining with admiration.

"Seriously?" He sighs, slumping against the doorframe. "You almost gave me a heart attack, Katie."

"Sorry, sorry." says Katie Holt, though there isn't much sincerity in her tone. Instead she indicates wildly to the contents on screen, almost throwing the remote in his direction as she waves him over. "But how rad is this?!"

Keith runs a hand through his unkempt hair and reluctantly peers at the screen. His expression shifts into a frown once his eyes gloss over the words. "God, not this Voltron crap again..."

"What do you mean ' _this Voltron crap_ '?!" She scowls, eyes alight with fury as she spins around to face him "Voltron is the single greatest sci-fi show ever made! It's the cool shit from Star Wars and the accuracy from A Space Odyssey combined into one great, majestic masterpiece! It's like Beyoncé having a baby in SPACE or—"

He yawns. "So?"

"Oh, who am I kidding. You think AHS Circus was better than Murder House, your opinion doesn't matter."

"Tate was annoying and an awful character and you know it!"

"Anyways," She sings, not taking any of his protests to heart, "This special episode is supposed to bridge the gap that they left off at! Remember how the leader–Black–died?"

"...The, uh, Swedish one?" He asks uncertainly, relaxing when he sees her give a nod of affirmation. His Voltron trivia is lacking, and for good reason too.

"Yeah, now we're finally gonna get to see how the rest of their team handles it!" Katie gushes. "And maybe, MAYBE, we'll find out who's going to take over being the leader!"

There are a lot of things Keith cares about. Voltron is not one of them. But the last thing he'll do is shoot his best friend down, knowing full and well how special Voltron actually is to her.

He notices bags hanging beneath her eyes and frowns. "When did you wake up?"

She smiles sheepishly. "Uhh..."

"Katie, you have to actually go to sleep!" He says, "You're lucky your school is still flooded."

"Thank god for those idiots in the Garrison dorms." She says fondly, flicking the tv off. "We'll watch it together when you get home, so don't be late."

He'd love to tell her that it was fruitless, but watching this show with her had more or less become a tradition. While he still couldn't stand Voltron and all the hype it got, he always tolerated it for her.

"Alright, I have a lecture at 9. What time is it?"

She adjusts her glasses, "About 8:40."

Keith's eyes nearly bulge out of his head when he registers her words. His eyes turn to the clock above the television where true to her words, the flashing 8:37 is present.

He gives a shriek worthy of a horror movie and ducks into the bathroom, shouting curses about his shitty cellphone alarm never going off when it should.

"That's why you should upgrade it!" Katie calls after him listlessly while he lets out a string of profanity.

In a record eight minutes, Keith manages to shower, get dressed, eat breakfast and book it to the parking garage, even while demanding that his roommate get some sleep on the way out.

The one good thing about living in a low-grade apartment building without many tenants is the fact that nobody ever bothers to touch his motorcycle.

The 2006 Suzuki Katana 600 is easily his most prized possession. The motorcycle had been a gift from his family when he'd been admitted into college, and the modifications he'd done afterwards added to the overwhelming attachment he had for it.

It was easier for him to get around in a motorcycle anyways. While a car would've been just as great, on days like today, it'd be impossible to get through traffic.

He adjusts his helmet, revs his engine and takes off.

Keith has two classes for the day. A humanities lecture and then a special presentation for one of his natural sciences course. All in all, a boring day.

He stops at a red light, drumming his glove-clad fingers against the handles with a scowl. As soon as it turns green, he takes off, cutting through the back entrance to reach the parking lot for his motorcycle. At least he'd be on time.

No less than three minutes later, he slides into his seat, dropping his head into his hands with a relieved sigh. The professor strides in a few moments later, shutting the door with a decisive click.

As he gets ready to start the lesson, Keith focuses on breathing air back into his lungs.

"Keith!" a voice calls and he groans into his sleeve, straightening his back as someone clasps his shoulder and sits down beside him. "You were almost late!"

"Hello, Samantha." He says dryly.

The girl with the long, blonde hair taps her nails against the desk. The little click noises irritate him but he doesn't comment on it. "Remember how I was telling you about Todd? He told me to come over last night at 2am like I was some kind of... of booty call!"

Keith sighs, "Did you go?"

"Yes... But that's beside the point! What do I do, Keith?!" She wails.

He exhales noisily. At the beginning of the year, at the start of college, Keith had come out and stayed out. It had been a decision he'd made in a split-second due to the overwhelming frustration present when girls in his class attempted to chat him up--and they did.

Yes, Keith Kogane was gay. No, Keith Kogane was not experimenting. It felt like he'd exchanged one burden for another though, since women seemed to flock to him with the intention of snatching up a gay best friend.

He already had a best friend and she was a nightmare. That was enough for him.

"Keeeiiitth!" calls another voice, and yet another of his classmates latches onto his other side, "Did you watch the new Voltron episode?"

"No." He says automatically, "I d--"

The mention of Voltron has several more people perking up and congregating towards his desk. Mindful of his lack of personal space, Keith blows hair from his eyes and crosses his arms. The words Voltron and special episode and amazing keep getting tossed around.

"No, you don't understand! Lance Mcclain's acting somehow keeps getting better." squeals Samantha, a hand on Keith's shoulder. "If I could meet him, I'd die!"

"Wow, same!" another girl whose name Keith can't remember echoes. "He doesn't have a girlfriend yet... Jury's still out on whether or not he's dating the girl who plays Green."

"Acxa--! As if! I swear that girl's gay. Lance Mcclain needs someone who's completely devoted to him." says the blonde girl, "Like me."

Keith raises a brow. "Todd?"

"Ugh, so you think I should be with him?!"

"Okay, okay, settle down!" calls their professor, "I'm starting this lecture. Sit down."

Keith opens his notebook and clicks his pen, prepared to throw himself into studying. This talk about Voltron would just have to wait for later. Or preferably... never.

* * *

_"I can't believe what I'm hearing right now!" Blue yells, scrubbing a hand through his hair as frustration begins to build. "You--We have to give this new girl a chance!"_

_The paladin draped in armour of green takes a step forward. "Red didn't say he wasn't going to give her a chance, he just said that--"_

_"Stop defending him, Green!" cries Blue, turning away from them. "I swear... I swear I'll leave the team if you don't--" His throat feels tight, like he's about to cry any minute now. "Black would've wanted us to move on... He..." A strangled sob escapes his throat as he cups a hand over his mouth, shaking off the hand that Green tries to place on his shoulder. "I miss him... I miss my best friend..."_

_"...Blue." whispers the paladin dressed in yellow. Her eyes shine with tears as she looks at the shaking shoulders of their once-radiant colleague._

_"Why did he have to die?" croaks Blue, as sobs begin to wrack his body. "Why him?"_

**_"CUT!"_ **

Lance Mcclain, now out of character and most certainly not Blue, straightens up, wiping tears from his cheeks as he stretches exaggeratedly. "Wow, crying sure does make you hungry."

A laugh of assent ripples through the crew as they shuffle back and forth across the set. The Cuban actor purses his lips and looks up at his director who is conversing with his assistant languidly. "Not good enough, sir?"

"No, Lance." says Ulaz, his most beloved figure of authority. "You did perfect. Take ten."

"Right on!" He grins, ambling off in search of something to stuff his face with. Between long, tiring takes during the filming of Voltron and mandatory interviews with varying magazines, Lance could honestly say that he was exhausting his energy with each passing day. And they were barely finished the first of this twelve-episode season.

Lance spots the beautiful snack table and makes a mad dash towards the garlic knots arranged on a platter. He pops a handful into his mouth and sighs dreamily. "So good..."

"They're not all for you, Lance."

He turns to find his best friend of nearly ten years placing a glass bowl, this time containing vibrant salad, on the table. "Hunk, it's been so long!"

Hunk Garrett cocks his head to the side, "We saw each other yesterday?"

"I meant the garlic knots." He laughs, taking another and smiling goofily. "But how've you been, man? Thought you had an exam coming up?"

"In a couple days, yeah." says Hunk, "I've been studying like crazy, but Sal's got me here all the time."

Lance knew more than anyone that his friend had his studies in the bag. While maintaining a part-time job at Vrepit Sal's catering, Hunk was also studying to become a car mechanic. If anyone could do it, it was Hunk. "Can't wait till this season wraps up and I can go back to Cuba."

"I bet. How's your mom?"

He smiles wolfishly. "She's excited to 'see her mijo acting like a grown-up on tv'. She might have to wait a while though..." He points at his director who is speaking furiously into the ear of a screenwriter who is in turn writing furious notes on a clipboard.

Hunk shrugs, "That was a good take just now though. Really believable."

"Aw, thanks man." He says. "I th--"

"I agree with the catering boy, that was a very good take, Mcclain."

Both Hunk and Lance turn to find Lance's costar, the man who plays the red paladin, Lotor. He saunters by, his false elf helixes still attached to his ear. Lance's expression melts into a frown as he crosses his arms. "He has a name. It's Hunk--"

"Lance, it's cool." says Hunk, shaking his head to distract Lance from his ire. The Cuban's shoulders tighten as Lotor brushes by, reaching for the bowl of chocolate oatmeal cookies. Instead of taking one or two, he takes the entire thing, tucking it to his chest as he walks past.

"Ezor likes those, y'know!" says Lance though it is futile as Lotor disappears into his dressing room with the bowl. "Aaand, he's gone."

"Man, that guy's flawless." Hunk comments with a low whistle.

He shakes his head, "The only thing flawless about him is how he can eat all those without growing a double chin..." He rubs his own jaw self-consciously and looks around the set. "Hey... You seen Shiro around?"

"Not yet. Is he here?"

A sly grin slowly forms on his face as he takes a bottle of water. "I'll be back."

"Lance!" says Hunk warningly, "Don't do anything rash!"

"Too late!" He says as he pushes the door that leads to the side entrance of the studio. The familiar sounds of screaming fills the air as he pokes his head out to survey the area.

Fans toting Voltron shirts and other merch call his name excitedly as soon as they spot him. "Hey, guys!" He chirps as he is hounded by adoring supporters.

Lance falls into a comfortable state of mind as he chats with them and signs autographs and takes photos. He makes sure to keep the filter on his mouth when they ask about spoilers from the next season. "Black was great, wasn't he? I think you'll like what we have planned too s--"

"Sorry folks, Lance Mcclain has to get back to work."

A heavy hand on his shoulder pulls him away from his fans as he pouts, looking up at the taller figure with false crocodile tears shining in his eyes. "Awh, come on, Shiro!"

"Look, it's the hot bodyguard..." whispers a girl in the crowd. Several others soon follow suit in either booing Shiro or catcalling him.

Lance tries to capitalize on the split reaction. "They like you, man. Maybe we could both sign some--"

"No, playtime's over." He exhales as he easily steers him back into the studio. "I turned my back on you for a minute and you go straight outside?"

"Untrue." He says, "I went to the snack table and then I went outside."

"Lance." snaps Shiro, "You can't just do as you please."

The Cuban frowns, knowing that he's been beat. He hangs his head in disappointment. "Yeah... okay."

Shiro's expression shifts as he takes in his charge's dismay. "...Ulaz is ready to start the next scene."

"Thanks." He replies, watching as Lotor takes his place on the set, in front of the place the red lion is meant to be. As he prepares to start yelling at his fellow paladin, Lance wonders, just briefly, what it'd be like to live a normal life, without any of this fame business.

He misses the freedom of the sun.

* * *

"God, I'm so late." grimaces Keith as he stares up at the moon in the sky. A shift that had supposed to be six hours ended up stretching into nine. A bit of overtime never hurt anyone... Certainly not his wallet.

He really hopes that Katie had just forgotten about him and watched the episode and then gone to bed. The last thing he wants is for her to make her already terrible sleep schedule even worse. Keith yawns as he parks his motorcycle and then jogs up to the fourth floor where his shared apartment is.

He wants to take a hot shower, review his notes and then fall asleep. The scent of pizza that follows him is ridiculously annoying too. He opens the door as quietly as he can manage, grimacing when his keys jingle loudly in the ensuing silence of the apartment. It's all dark, save for one lamp in the living room. "Please say she didn't..." 

Keith can make out a figure snoring quietly on the couch. He frowns. Sleeping here would be awful for her back. "Hey. Katie--"

The girl in question springs up, awake and perky despite being woken up abruptly. "You're _late_!"

"You _did_ watch it without me, right?"

The stare she pins him with is all the answer he needs. Keith takes off his jacket and slumps down into the seat beside her. She has Netflix up and running almost instantly, vibrating in all her excitement. "Kids in my class kept saying how good the episode is and--"

"Nu-uh, no spoilers." She interjects, hitting the play button. "I hope this lives up to my expectations."

"It's never lived up to mine." Keith quips as she elbows him in his side.

The familiar opening tune plays as the theme song begins, revealing the main paladins--including the one who'd died--as they fly their lions up into the sky and then form Voltron.

Blue, played by the oh-so-dreamy Lance Mcclain is as obnoxious as ever as he whoops with delight, but Keith doesn't comment on it out of fear of receiving yet another elbow in his gut from his roommate.

As the opening theme ends, the words **Director – Ulaz** appear. "Doesn't that guy have a full name?"

"Yeah, but no one knows what it is." She whispers conspiratorially. "Dude's ears are freakishly big too... I bet he's an alien."

"An alien directing a show about aliens? No wonder it's so accurate." He says languidly.

She laughs, "It would make sense!"

He blinks and nearly misses the next set of words that pass across the screen next. **Production Assistant – Matthew Holt**.

While Katie loves sci-fi culture in general, he knows that the true reason Voltron is so dear to her heart is the fact that her brother works tirelessly on it. It was his first big job and it took him hours away from the apartment--and hours away from her. Matt was a good guy. He'd make head producer one day.

"It's starting." She hisses, grabbing a pillow and holding it over her mouth. "I can't watch..."

"You have no choice." Keith deadpans only to be furiously shushed by her.

_"--only option we have!" snarls Red, tossing pitch white hair over his shoulder. "Black is gone, we don't have many options left!"_

_"So, what? You think you can lead the team?! Really?" retorts Blue with a bitter laugh. He jabs a finger against Red's chest. "News flash man, not everything is about you! Think about the team!"_

_" **Enough**!" Green exclaims, successfully managing to silence both of her quarelling teammates. "We don't choose the lions and you know it! We have to let HER decide!"_

Katie laughs triumphantly. "Always the voice of reason, that girl. She's my favourite, if you couldn't tell."

He rolls his eyes. "You say that every time we watch..." Still, Keith is inclined to agree. In another universe, maybe Katie would've been the green paladin herself.

Keith's mind begins to drift as the paladins begin to take turns sitting inside of the black lion. He wonders if Samantha or any of his other teammates recorded the lecture so he can write a transcript. If his old phone worked, he'd be able to record it. But it barely had space as well as the ability to actually record voice... too much background noises. An upgrade would definitely--

_"Hey there, pretty lady..." Blue says wistfully, "Usually whenever I see ya, I'm outside of the lion inside of my own." He clears his throat, "I mean, we had some good times! Remember when Black got us stranded on Cothore and we had to forage for food? Or when we lost you in the bazaar on Planet Fau? I--" His voice cracks as a tear slides down his cheek, "I miss him too, girl..."_

_He closes his eyes and the scene flashes back to Black's final moments._

_"That's why we gotta defeat the Galra. For him." Blue whispers, "I can't pilot you. Neither can Red or Green or Yellow. You gotta help me out... What do we do?"_

_There is a deafening silence for a moment before the controls of the lion begins to dimly light up._

"Blue is gonna pilot the black lion?!" gasps Katie, "But he--he's not interested, like at all!"

"Red's a way better paladin than him." says Keith, quickly receiving a glare from the younger girl.

"For someone who claims to hate the show, it sure does sound like you have an opinion on it."

"Cute. I'm just saying."

"Well, don't."

_Blue shoots up from the seat and stumbles back onto the deck where his fellow paladins are waiting._

_"Not you either, huh?" laments Yellow, "You okay? Looks like you've seen a ghost!"_

_"Guys." says Blue, an air of seriousness to his face. "The lion already chose a paladin."_

_"Who is it?" asks Green, eyebrows furrowed. "And how do you know?"_

_"She just told me." He responds, "The paladin's name is Fallah and she's on Planet Arus."_

_"I thought Arus was destroyed decaphebes ago?" Red scowls. "How can there be survivors?"_

_"Then I guess we need to go find out." He says, "Let's go."_

"What the _hell_?!" trills Katie, adoration shining in her eyes, "Their leader is going to be a girl! A _girl_! This is amazing!"

A female leader would make the show slightly more bearable. He was tired of the former Swedish accent that was constant in the previous episodes. He wasn't about to tell her that though.

When the Swede had died in the season finale, Katie had mourned for hours on end. So had a lot of other people in his classes. It had been a solemn week. "I have to take a shower." announces Keith as he stands up.

For all that happened, Keith may as well have said nothing. She is already furiously tapping away on her laptop, evidently scouring tumblr for some sort of additional information, something she might've missed. He's been long forgotten.

Keith snorts and shuffles away to take a shower. Voltron be damned, this is way more important. He still doesn't know what makes it so great. Oh well.


	2. episode 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fallah's actress makes her appearance. keith has an explosive first meeting with lance mcclain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **some notes about the previous chapter**  
>  \- keith is studying social work (hence the humanities and natural science courses)  
> \- katie is 16 and in high school (the garrison)  
> \- sven played black and his character has been killed off now  
> \- i hate giving characters last names!! they will forever be surname-less orz
> 
> thank you for all the comments and kudos!! blew me right off my seat! :)

_"Don't you think it's a little strange how you're going to be getting a new costar but you haven't even met her yet?"_

Hunk's words from days before were still echoing in Lance's head. He proved a very valid point. The girl who was set to play Fallah had yet to appear in the studio while he was.

Ulaz as a director took many creative liberties but striving for genuine surprise during the first meeting scene would probably backfire if they were not at least mildly familiar with one another.

Lance yawns and flips a page in his script, returning back to the front cover where ' _Episode 1 - Solidarity_ ' is typed on the front. He's memorized it cover to cover, every part including Lotor's--he always had been good at memorization... though nothing else.

As of now, the others are filming the scene that is meant to be happening at the same time as Blue is speaking to Black's lion. Without much to do, Lance found himself in his dressing room, munching on carrot sticks and lamenting his boring fate.

He hops off his cushy chair and paces around, finding that nothing is easing his boredom. Lance carefully eases the door open, looking to his left and then at his right, in order to make sure Shiro isn't--

"You're not going anywhere, Lance."

"Busted." He sighs, watching as Shiro emerges from the shadows, arms crossed firmly over his chest. Lance is tempted to ask him to flex and see if his shirt would rip. "Hey, man... It's been a while so I was just going for a walk!"

"You've been in your dressing room for twelve minutes." He says incredulously. "Lance--"

"It's the ADHD! I swear!"

A knowing look passes across his face before he sighs, "They need quiet on set right now. When I dragged you back inside yesterday, Ulaz was not pleased."

"I apologized for that, it's not like I do it that often." Lance replies.

"You did it yesterday and you just tried to do it again!" He says sternly, and from the looks of it, is all keyed up to give Lance an earful.

The actor glances around to distract himself from the thrashing he was about to receive from his bodyguard/apparent mother figure. His eyes brighten, "Hate to interrupt, but here comes Matt."

Instead of easing off like Lance would've hoped, Shiro's face tints an angry red as he glowers down at him. "I am trying to keep you safe, Lance. The least you could do is listen to me, or at the very least, pretend to. I--!"

"Hey, Shiro!"

He all but stops, the colour draining from his face as he looks at Lance's smug expression and then slowly turns to face the person who'd called him.

A man with large circular glasses and fluffy unkempt hair jogs towards them, a handful of papers in the crook of his arm. He comes to a stop in front of them and nearly drops his things. Shiro catches a book as it teeters over his arm.

"Heh, thanks!" says the man as he looks over at Lance. "Hi, Lance! How are you?"

"Hey, Matt." He responds, enunciating the name very carefully as Shiro's nostrils flare warningly. "I'm just chilling."

"Good!" Matt paws through a stack of yellow sheets and hands one of them to Lance. "Some changes were made to scene eleven for the next episode."

He accepts it with a grin, "Thanks, man. I'll just put it in my dressing room." Lance takes a couple steps back, and opens the door for his room. His eyes remain on Matt and Shiro, the latter of whom has now turned his back to the door and is focusing his attention on Matt. Lance doesn't quite know what sort of tension it is that the two of them have.

What he does know is that the longer he sticks around, the less enchanted Shiro becomes. Sooner or later, he will snap back around and grab Lance and ensure he doesn't run off again. This may be the last chance he has.

Lance coils the sheet into a roll and sticks it into the pocket of his jacket. He watches Shiro's very cringey movements (all those bashful gestures had to get tiring eventually) and then turns a corner, heading away from the main set and towards the crew's break room. He doesn't think many people will be in here since they are filming, but--

Before Lance can finish that thought, he collides into someone. _Hard_. The force sends him sprawling into the ground, landing on his ass with a harsh thump but the figure he'd run into hasn't budged. He rubs his sore backside and groans. "Ugh, that hurt like hell."

"My apologies!"

His neck snaps up at the sound of a very feminine, very British accent. Rather than a burly man weighing several times his amount, he finds a woman around his height who appears unruffled and apologetic as her words seem to dictate.

She extends an elegant hand towards him and hefts him back to his feet without breaking a sweat.

"I must be in heaven 'cause I found an angel." He blurts out before he even registers he's said it.

Her eyes briefly widen before she pokes experimentally at his forehead. "You didn't hit your head, did you?"

"Wow, harsh." He laughs, "I don't get that reaction often, y'know."

The dark-skinned woman tilts her head to the side, "I can't imagine why. Are you sure you don't have a concussion?"

"I can just get the nurse to look at it later. No worries." He shrugs. A potential concussion does give him an opening to leave, at least. Lance quickly begins to realize that he doesn't know this woman, not even a little. She has a symmetric, pretty face. Not easily overlooked. "Are you new here? Or...?" A new crew member would not be completely uncalled for.

"Oh, yes, I..." She looks away and wrings a pale pink handkerchief between her hands. "I'm--"

"Lance, I see you've met Allura."

Both of them turn to find Ulaz walking towards them, toting a clipboard under his arm.

The Cuban smiles at her, "I'm Lance Mcclain." He didn't think that this was new information for her. Judging by the way her expression didn't change, he decided his assumptions were correct.

"Right." She says, chewing on her bottom lip quietly.

"As you may have already guessed, Allura will be our new black paladin, Fallah." Ulaz continues, placing a hand on her shoulder, "I hope you two will be able to work together."

Lance had not guessed that, but it made an overwhelming amount of sense. He nods as if that wasn't new information at all, "Welcome to the team, Allura." He says brightly.

"Thank you." She replies but the smile she attempts to reciprocate does not reach her eyes.

He can tell right away that she's spooked, maybe of the studio or of this new job in general. Either way, nerves would not allow her to perform to her fullest potential. He wants to help, because it isn't like anyone else in the cast would--and they'd be working most closely together anyhow. "Hey, Allura, how bout--"

"I need you in the next scene, Lance." interrupts Ulaz, waving down one of the on-call makeup artists who scurry over and give Lance a quick touch up on his foundation.

Lance nods. "Got it, boss." He jogs over to the set, realizing that because Ezor is the only one on set, that they are doing their solo scene. "Scene 8?"

"Yep." She says, popping the 'p' at the end. "Who's that girl you're talkin' to? Not your girlfriend is it?"

He grins, "Wow, you think that highly of me? Nah, that's our new Fallah!"

"Voltron hit the jackpot on her." She remarks, straightening up as Ulaz walks towards them and takes his seat behind the multitude of cameras.

They quickly school their expressions and wait for the call before they start the scene. Ulaz yells action and they begin.

_Blue sighs as he carries the Black paladin helmet in his arms towards a tall shelf. He places it down and takes a step back, looking over as he spots Yellow ambling towards him, an unusual expression on her face. "Oh, hey." He says, "Everything okay?"_

_"No, yeah, I'm fine!" She mumbles, "It's just... I've been wondering something."_

_"Shoot." He says, turning to face her._

_Yellow's eyes flicker back to the helmet. "Going to Arus, finding this... Fallah girl? Is it even safe? We already can't form Voltron because we're short one. So we're at such a vulnerable position as it is!"_

_"Yellow," Blue says as he clasps her shoulder, "We'll be just fine. Everyone has each other's back--Even Red. And when we find Fallah, things will fall back into place."_

_A small smile breaks out across her face, "So much for not being cut out for leader, huh, Blue?"_

_"Maybe I'm just talking out of my ass. Ever think of that?" He laughs, though it is short-lived since she has begun to watch him with an awe-struck expression. "What? Something on my face?"_

_She shakes her head, "No, it's just... it's been a while since I heard you laugh like that."_

_"Guess it has." He agrees, looking off as he begins to think of Black. They were supposed to go back, back home to all of their families back on earth but only one had made it this far. While he missed his leader, he also dearly missed normalcy. "I was about to head back to bed. See you."_

_Yellow nods and Blue makes his escape into the winding staircase away from the loading decks and towards their chambers._

**_"CUT!"_ **

Lance spins on his heel and Ezor whoops with joy, holding her hand out for a high five. "I felt that in my heart, you depressed loser."

"What can I say, Blue's pain is my pain." He gives her a high-five, looking over as Ulaz seems to be having a back and forth debate with one of the assistant directors.

As if sensing his waiting gaze on him, Ulaz briefly looks up and tells them to take a break and that Lance was done for the day. "I was about to take Allura--" he gestures to their future costar still looking out of place in her own studio, Out. If you wanted to come, you c--"

"Ezor."

"You have _got_ to be kidding me..." Lance scowls under his breath, watching as Lotor drifts by, white wig still attached to his head. He gestures in the direction of his dressing room.

Lance notices that he has a bowl of white chocolate and macadamia nut cookies in hand again. Even if a double-chin was out of the question, diabetes certainly was.

Ezor smiles apologetically, "Next time, maybe?" Without much else besides that, she scurries off after Lotor, accepting a cookie he hands her and they enter his dressing room, shutting the door behind them.

Lance frowns. That damn Pro Tem agency really had everyone on lock. It was usually associated with Lotor who was their prime client, per se, but both Acxa and Ezor were also managed by the same agency. He shakes his head to dispel the negative energy and tromps off to Allura who had been watching the filming of the scene with rapt attention.

"Was it good?" He asks.

"It was." She says, pursing her lips. "The two of you are very natural."

"I bet we'll be better." He says. As far as he knows, she isn't managed by Pro Tem. "Hold up. Who's your--?"

"Altea." She says, and he wracks his mind trying to figure out if he knows the company. "It's based in London."

"Oh, okay, so you're not with that Pro Tem or--"

Her face takes on a ghastly hue, "God, no. I'd rather die."

"I think I'm gonna like you." He grins, glancing around before gesturing to his bodyguard still wrapped up in a conversation with Matt. "See that tall guy over there? The one whose shirt is barely hanging on for dear life?"

"Yes--oh, wow, you're right." She blinks.

"That's my bodyguard, Shiro." Lance says, "Beside him is Matt Holt, one of our PAs. If you ever have questions, he's the guy to ask. Matt knows everything."

"Are the two of them...?" Allura trails off. Lance looks to where she's gesturing to. Matt has placed a hand on Shiro's prosthetic arm and instead of recoiling the way he sometimes does, he gets all meek and bashful.

"Unbelievable." groans Lance, "Not officially, but they may as well be. Anyways, Shiro is gonna kill me for what we're about to do--you ready?"

Allura frowns, "What... are we about to do?"

He puts on a pair of his big-rimmed sunglasses. "Ever been to the ice cream place next to the marina?"

"No?"

"Best ice cream ever, I swear on my life." says Lance, "Nothing can help more with nerves than that. Or Hunk's garlic knots."

"Who is Hunk?" She inquires as he exaggeratedly hides behind a set decoration in his quest for the door.

"My best friend. He works catering here, but his shift doesn't start for another hour. You'll know him when you see him." Lance babbles, ending up telling her a couple stories about how great Hunk is. After a moment, he realizes that she's gone completely silent and he flushes awkwardly. "Too much?"

"No, Lance--"

He holds back from commenting on the way she says the 'a' in his name like an 'o'. British accents really do make things seem like whole new words.

"--I'm just surprised that you are the same during interviews as you are regularly."

That was something many people say about him. Lance doesn't know anything about faux celebrity personalities. Everything about him is real, save for a few things he can't let slip for the life of him. He shrugs, "Guess I'm transparent."

"Unlike our colleague Lotor who must be less real than silicone." She scoffs.

"Do you... know Lotor?" He blinks, "Like, personally?" Her words didn't indicate that just now was her first time seeing him.

Allura nods, "We graduated from the same dramatic arts program in Cambridge. Not a fun time, I might add."

"Have any embarrassing photos of him? Dressing in drag, brutally murdered? Both?"

She laughs, "What on earth did you do in school, Lance?" They reach the less-used side entrance and he shoulders the door, letting her pass through ahead of him. It strikes him as odd that no fans are posted around here, but he realizes that they might just be at the entrance he'd last made an appearance.

In no time at all, they've made it to the crowded city streets filled with people who are too busy to give him a surplus of attention.

It is short-lived however, as he hears a livid voice loudly call his name. It reverberates in his skull.

"Shiro's gonna kill me." He grumbles.

Allura glances behind her, "He's coming."

But, Lance really thinks it's high time he has a break. All of this fame is overwhelming. All he wants is to make it to the ice cream parlour, grab some soft serve and sit on the docks with his toes touching the water. He deserves that much at least.

"C'mon!" He says, weaving between passerbys as he makes his way to the other side of the street. He turns back, expecting to find Allura, but she's been separated from him in the chaos.

Still, Lance is too far in to turn back now. He spots someone on a motorcycle preparing to drive off and without thinking, hops onto the back of it.

"Sorry!" He yells, both to the driver of the vehicle and to Shiro and Allura. Lance knows he's in for hell when he gets back and that Shiro might actually kill him--but he just needs some reprieve.

"Wh-What the hell?!" He hears the driver say.

"Go, go, go! I'm being followed!"

Without another word, the driver takes off and the further away Lance gets from the studio, the less heavy his chest feels. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn't such a bad idea after all.

* * *

Keith had been asked to do a few deliveries on the side of town that was centred around the illustrious _Marmora Studios_. It had been a far drive, from the parlour to here, but the hefty tips he'd received more than made up for it.

Rich people were the best people to deliver to, except for when they ask for outlandish pizza ingredients. One woman had been appalled to learn that they did not offer _arugula_ as a topping.

He didn't even know what that was.

He stretches as he puts his helmet back on, prepared to go back to the parlour and accept no other orders this far away from his apartment.

The gas prices were putting a bigger dent in his spirits than the actual driving and delivery work.

Keith had wanted to check in on Matt, maybe tell him that Katie idolized the special episode of Voltron, but there was no actual guarantee he'd be allowed to do so.

Pizza boys did not scream film studio material. It was likely that they'd turn him away and humiliation did not sound that fun.

He keys up the ignition and watches for oncoming traffic as he prepares to head out. Just as he does so, someone clambers onto his motorcycle and yells something in a panic.

He struggles with his visor before asking what the hell they thought they were doing.

"I'm being followed!" They exclaim and even though he can't see their face or anything at all, he does know what that sort of thing is like.

Keith also knows that helping gang members are frowned upon by society and that the other side could potentially kill him for it. But he figures that he's already in pretty deep.

So he revs his engine and takes off, praying that all of this doesn't backfire and blow up in his face.

* * *

Keith doesn't stop driving until he sees the waterfront. Around this time of day, it is almost completely empty. Wary of the stranger breathing heavy down his neck, he stops his motorcycle and hops off, putting a far enough distance to defend himself if need be.

The stranger is furiously patting down wind-tousled hair and muttering about the unsafe ride, while also cleaning the lenses of their sunglasses with their shirt and--

Keith knows this person.

"Oh, what the hell." He whispers, pulling his helmet off. "Lance Mcclain?"

He hadn't accidentally picked up a gang member, he'd picked up a celebrity. An extremely popular, highly-sought out _celebrity_. He was dead meat when Lance Mcclain's management came for him. The police might even get involved. This was getting worse by the second.

"You have no idea how thankful I am, bro." says Lance Mcclain--who is still speaking to him and sounds exactly like his character Blue does. "I didn't mean to scare you but I was done for the day and I--"

"What the _f_ \--" Keith inhales sharply, "You need to go back. They'll think I kidnapped you or something, and the last thing I need is a criminal record."

He blinks. "I'm not going back. I just got here. Anyways, I can give you an autograph if y--"

"Not a fan." says Keith, his voice slightly queasy as he takes in the gravity of this situation.

"Huh? For real?" The taller boy frowns. "You got my name though."

"Doesn't mean I'm a fan." He snaps. "You need to g--"

"Nooope, not happening." interjects Lance as he spins on his heel and starts to walk along the docks, mumbling about his search for ice cream.

Keith was floored. For a celebrity, for someone in the spotlight, this boy was a menace. Why couldn't he see reason to go back. Why would he ditch his cushy film studio in the first place? He furrows his brows and follows after him, "What do you mean you won't go back?"

"It means I'm getting ice cream." Lance Mcclain responds. "Thanks for your help and all, but I'm good from here. I can just call my bodyguard when I'm done and--" He touches the pockets of his trousers and pales. "Shit."

"You didn't bring your phone?" He says through gritted teeth.

"Lapse in judgement." The actor replies sheepishly. "Say... you don't happen to have one on you, do ya?"

Keith's face flushes when he realizes that if he handed over his cellphone to Lance Mcclain, he'd probably get laughed at. Who uses Blackberry still anyways? It wasn't his fault that it was the only thing offered on his cell company plan... Still, getting this celebrity out of his hair would probably be for the best.

He digs into pocket and removes his phone, grimacing as he boots it up, only to be met with a 0% battery sign. "Fuck."

"What is that?" says Lance, peering at the screen curiously. "Is that a Blackberry C--oh, and it's dead too. Nice."

Keith feels a nerve in his temple blow out. He looks around the docks, "Just find someone and ask to use their phone."

Lance crosses his arms, "Fine." He relents, "But--" Suddenly, the sounds of garbled talking fills the air, followed by quick footsteps. "Shit... Paparazzi."

"P--Are you shitting me right now?!" Of all the horrible things to happen to him, now he had to hide away a celebrity? He grabs his helmet and shoves it over Lance's head, ignoring his cries of protest.

He ushers them both into a corner between stacks of skids, waiting with baited breath as the Paparazzi appear and swarm the motorcycle. Keith grimaces, watching as they snap photos of the crime scene, wondering which way Lance Mcclain had gone. Keith cannot believe that this was his fate, that _this_ was h--

"Are you really wearing a mullet?"

"You're _not_ helping!" Keith complains, trying to think of a solution to this problem. What would Katie do if she were in this position? She'd try to regroup somewhere safe, like--

"Fine! Fine." Keith groans, realizing what needs to be done. "We're leaving."

"But, your motorcycle--"

"I'll get it later." He had his keys in his pocket anyways. The paparazzi would not touch it. He hoped. "We have to go somewhere more lowkey."

"Like?" The muffled voice of Lance Mcclain coming from Keith's helmet was really putting this all into perspective for him.

He sighs loudly. "My apartment."

Heaven must _really_ be enjoying his suffering, he thinks as he grabs Lance's hand and drags him off in the direction of his home. They were in for a long commute.


	3. episode 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> on the run from the press, lance and keith get creative. elsewhere, allura hatches a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **some notes about the previous chapter**  
>  \- matt works as a production assistant  
> \- shiro is lance's (stressed out) bodyguard  
> \- keith can't catch a break
> 
> sorry for the wait!! bunch of new ideas hijacked my ass but i got it together :)

Keith doesn’t trust himself to get famed celebrity Lance Mcclain to safety on his own. At least not without safeguards. He was missing his motorcycle--now being hounded by the paparazzi--and his cellphone--now dead--plus he has no numbers of any of his friends memorized. Truly, it’s a shitty turn of events for a pretty shitty day. 

In comparison, Lance doesn’t seem to be experiencing any sort of internal meltdown. He is humming the theme song to an incredibly old television show, completely at ease with the situation.

Keith checks his pockets. He has enough money for bus fare for the both of them, but actually getting onto a bus with a renowned actor is a bit less… doable.

“Put your glasses on.” says Keith, “We’re going on the bus.” 

“Y’know, it’s been a while since I’ve been on one of those.” Lance says fondly, sliding on his shades and grinning. “Let’s go!”

Keith doesn’t know enough about Lance Mcclain to recall whether or not he’d been an ordinary guy before fame snatched him up. At the moment, it's not a very pressing matter either.

"Not so fast.” He interjects, taking off his jacket and handing it to Lance. “Your clothes are too recognizable.”

Lance nods sombrely, and Keith catches a glimpse of the name of a recognizable designer on his shirt. In comparison, he hits thrift stores with Katie and not just to be edgy...

Lance wrestles the jacket on, commenting on the stretchiness of the fabric. He’s only a few inches or so taller than Keith, barely enough to be noticeable, really, but the jacket still looks really wonky on him. Keith never thought that when a guy finally wore his clothes, it would be for this reason.

Or a celebrity for that matter.

Nobody could have ever told him that he’d be taking public transit with a known celebrity either, especially one who was idolized by most of his school—and received a straight-faced response. Keith would have found the situation comical had it not been for the severity of it all. Katie would never believe this, not even slightly.

“So… now what?” asks Lance as they wait at the bus stop. He sends a quick glance behind him and then purses his lips.

“Now…” Keith sighs, “We wait.”

If suffering was a skill, then Keith was a virtuoso.

* * *

“There he goes…” murmured Allura as she watched Lance take off on the back of some guy’s motorcycle. She didn’t even know that person. If Lance had intended to hop a ride with someone, he should have told her as much.

A sudden thought hits her with enough force to throw her off-kilter. What if Lance doesn’t know that person? She wracks her brain for the name of Lance’s bodyguard but by the time it finally occurs to her, the tall guy is already throwing himself into a car and speeding down after his charge.

She feels like she may or may not be involved with something very important right now.

This could go one of two ways.

_Terrible or horrible._

She groans and massages her temples, turning to head back into the studio and hopefully get a hold of someone of interest who might be in there. Someone who knows Lance, perhaps? Like that Matt fellow he’d also mentioned.

As she pushes the door that leads into the back, she hears a voice that registers surprise and a flash of grey slips by. Her arms snake out as she catches the falling object—a platter of food. Everything spared from hitting the ground.

“Wow, thank you! Really saved my life!” says the person she’d bumped into. She looks up and finds a man in a yellow bandana, dark jeans and a shirt that reads ‘Sal’s’.

She has a pretty good inkling that Sal’s is the catering service that supplies the snacks on set. This could also mean…

“Pardon me, are you, by any chance… Hunk?” She inquires, backtracking as soon as she notices him blanche. “Sorry, I must sound strange! It’s just… Lance mentioned a friend named Hunk and I--”

“Oh, Lance told you? Yeah, that’s me.” He nods, extending a hand. “I’m Hunk. I work catering on most afternoons.”

“It’s good to meet you, my name is Allura.” She says, shaking his hand. “I’m well, now also part of Voltron…”

She watches as his gaze brightens remarkably. “So _you_ play Falah! That’s pretty cool!”

“Yeah…” says Allura, averting her gaze and then remembering the pressing matter at hand. “Ah, well, the thing is, Lance tried to leave again.”

“Typical Lance.” He says dismissively, “He’s used to getting to run wild, and even though he’s famous now, some things don’t change.”

“Shiro went after him, but I’m a tad worried.” She admits.

“Don’t be, Lance always comes back. He’s like a boomerang that way.”

While that did sound true, it still bothered her. "The thing is…" Allura frowns. "He jumped onto someone’s motorcycle, but I’m not sure if he knew who they were or if he just… did it."

Hunk’s expression dims. “I don’t think he knows anyone with a motorcycle…”

Maybe this was a lot more dangerous than she initially believed. “So, what should we-“

“Shiro never touches his phone if he’s driving. Might as well try calling Lance.” He says as he opens the door to the studio. Allura takes the platter from him as he wrestles his phone from his pocket. She neatly places it on the table with the other foods and waits pensively.

As he dials the number, she steals a cookie from the plate and inconspicuously munches on it. The set is quiet as of now, since it looks like with the actors on a short break, the producers were conversing with one another about god knows what.

Hunk holds the phone to his ear, "He always charges his phone so he should answer..."

A muffled ringing noise begins to trill from nearby. Allura frowns and follows the path of the ringing. It leads to a door with a blue star and 'Mcclain' on the front.

A deep foreboding begins to tug at her heart. She turns the lock, belatedly noticing that Hunk is right behind her, seemingly having reached the same conclusion.

Atop Lance's vanity is his cellphone, ringing away with no owner in sight.

"That can't be good." mumbles Hunk as Allura snatches up the cellphone and exhales. "Any ideas?"

Her eyes go wide with sudden rememberance. "Lance told me where he was going... There is a chance he’s still there!"

"Where?" wonders Hunk, "We can take the catering truck."

"The marina." answers Allura, brightening up with hope. "Let’s go."

Hunk nods decisively and wags a set of keys on a circular keychain. "I parked in the back lot."

As they scramble back out to the exit, Allura snatches up another cookie with a sheepish smile. "They’re very tasty." She says justifiably and hopes that suffices.

Hunk laughs, "Thanks." And then they’re gone.

* * *

"This is my place." says Keith lazily as they approach his apartment building. His face is threatening to burn off because of what shame he may/may not feel for having to bring Lance to the run-down building that was probably nothing like he was used to.

To his credit, Lance doesn’t comment on the state of the apartment’s exterieur. He just nods and follows Keith up the stairs (the elevator seemed to be out of service again) and that was that.

As Keith opens the door to his apartment, Lance yawns. "All this running made me tired."

"Oh." says Keith, belatedly recognizing that Lance was trying to make conversation with him. He curses his antisocial tendencies and then gets the door open. As soon as he sticks his phone in to charge, everything will begin to return to normal.

Lance openly marvels at the apartment before them, "You live here with someone?"

"Yeah, my roommate, Katie." He answers, tempted to tell him that she’s a fan of his. To be fair, Katie loves the entire cast (minus the man who plays Red who she calls problematic) but she’d never believe that Lance was in the apartment if he signed something for her.

"Aw, cool, what is this?" asks Lance, bending down to prod one of Katie’s prototype robots.

"Katie’s into tech." Keith responds, plugging his cellphone in to the charger. "That’s Rover, her favourite."

"It looks like a roomba and a magic 8ball had a baby. Sup Rover?" comments Lance, jolting as the robot in question boots to life, buzzing around his feet noisily. "Damn, it’s kinda cute!"

Keith snorts, wondering if he should tell Lance that Rover was once just an ordinary Roomba that Katie modded into oblivion. His roommate is a little genius, able to distract a celebrity like this.

"Hey, where are you going, bud?" asks Lance as Rover begins to hightail it down the hall. He clambers to his feet. "I’m gonna follow it."

"Have fun." He should probably tell Lance not to break anything, but if he did, he could pay for it no problem. It wasn’t like he had anything to hide either...

As the phone boots up, taking its sweet, sweet time, a sudden thought finally occurs to Keith. Katie’s _room_. He curses under his breath and makes a mad dash to the opened door, "Lance, it’s--!"

Covered from ceiling to floor are various clippings from screenshots of Voltron, a giant bulletin board detailing the storyline of said series, printed metas, written out headcanons and tons of critiques.

Lance, frozen in the centre of the room turns to Keith with a face devoid of emotion... and then he grins the ugliest grin Keith has ever had the pleasure of seeing. (Blue has certainly never looked like that)

"And here I thought you weren’t a fan."

"It’s not mine!!" He says, "It’s Katie’s!"

If looks could kill, Keith would’ve been suffocated by the smug.

Lance walks by, patting his shoulder as he leaves the room. "It’s alright, man. Closet fans are the best!"

"I’m not a f--forget it." He sighs, grimacing as Lance laughs and then whistles on his way back down the hall, wondering if the phone had any battery in it yet.

As Rover beeps and begins to trail after him, Keith stops it with one foot and glares. "You’re the worst."

And so he locks Rover up in the room, ignoring the angry beeping that follows.

The phone does in fact have some juice in it, and Lance dials up a friend’s number.

"Don’t you have a bodyguard who’s probably hauling ass to come find you?"

"Uh... yeeees?" Lance smiles nervously. "That’s why I’m calling my friend to get me. My bodyguard is hella scary when he’s mad and I haven’t gotten him his apology bagels yet."

Keith cracked the barest hint of a smile. There was one other person who loved bagels a whole lot, and that was his older brother--Takeshi Shirogane or as he seemed to go by these days... Shiro.

"Hey, Hunk!"

Keith glances up as Lance seems to finally get ahold of his friend on the other line. He leans against the counter, watching the unfolding conversation with slight interest. Lance Mcclain can really be... animated, despite his character recently being, well... blue (pun intended).

"What do you mean you’re worried sick? Who told you? Was it--oh, Allura’s with you?" Lance chuckles wearily, "Sorry, man! Hey, think you can come get me?" He unpeels the cellphone from his ear, "What’s the address for this place?"

Keith picks up a piece of note paper and hurriedly scrawls the address to the building on it. Lance recites it into the receiver, mouthing 'Thanks' when it’s said and done.

"--Oh, I'm with someone right now, yeah. No, he isn’t planning to harvest my bones, shut it." Lance scoffs, "Two minutes? Alright, cool!" He hangs up and then leaves the phone to charge, face down, "Thanks, man. Sorry for the trouble."

"It’s okay." He says. Originally it had been a real bother but now it doesn’t seem to irritate him. Lance Mcclain (though he doesn’t want to admit it) is a really pleasant houseguest.

Lance’s brows suddenly furrow. "Just realized... I never caught your name."

"Oh, it’s--it’s Keith.”

He hadn’t actually expected Lance to ask, or _want_ to know. Keith understands that he might be putting celebrities on too high of a pedestal, but...? It’s a bit of a surprise. Maybe they weren’t all that stuck up, after all.

Lance grins, "Well, then, Keith. Thanks for everything! Riding the bus was a lot of fun."

Keith couldn't remember the last time he had 'enjoyed' riding the bus. He'd been keeping a close eye on Lance the whole ride to his apartment, certainly not taking any time to savour the fact that someone was coughing mucus all over his shoulder. He nods slowly, "Oh."

"And..." He purses his lips thoughtfully, "Oh! Don't worry about your motorcycle, I'll have someone send it over in an hour or so."

Keith doesn't really question Lance's ability to do so. He has money and people all over. He also knows that they probably wouldn't scratch or mishandle it. The motorcycle would be in good hands. "Alright. Thanks."

Lance opens his mouth to say something else, but then a sudden honking noise (loud enough to be heard because of the opened window) surprises them both out of their conversation. "And there's my chauffeur. See ya, Keith!"

The least he can do is walk Lance downstairs to his waiting car, but in the moment he hesitates, Lance waves and after slipping his glasses on, bolts off. Keith shuffles off to the window and watches as Lance is snatched up by a van marked with 'Sal's Catering' in large blue and purple text and a cartoon man with a beard, tinted a curious purple.

Lance is attacked by a large man in a bandana who looks like he's near tears (seems like many people were worried for him) and then a woman climbs out of the passenger seat, reluctantly embracing him as well.

Something in Keith's chest twinges. He has a girlfriend? Makes sense. He's famous, charismatic, polite (quite rowdy when he gets ready)--all the makings of a perfect guy. Why did it not surprise him that Lance Mcclain might not be single? And why did it matter... to him. Keith scowls and turns away from the window, ready to get some homework done and then tuck in for a nap.

Soon enough the one in a million events of today would fade away to a distant memory. He couldn't wait until then.

* * *

"Lance, you have a lot of explaining to do!" says Hunk as soon as the truck drives off. Allura, in the passenger seat ( _his_ seat, Lance notes) looks at him curiously, evidently wondering the same thing.

The scent of snickerdoodles was driving him crazy but he had to resist his cravings. Lance coughs, "I went on a little journey."

"You took off on the back of some unknown guy's motorcycle." deadpans his friend. "So, what's up with that? I didn't see him anywhere."

He adjusts his seat, bringing it back a little more as he reclines. "He stayed in his apartment, actually we took the bus--public transit!--to get home. It was fun, I had to get all disguised and everything." Lance pauses, suddenly realizing with a sinking heart that he's still wearing Keith's jacket. "...Huuunk, do you happen to have that guy's cellphone number by any chance?"

Allura tosses him the phone, "It should still be here."

"Password?"

"3425." Allura and Hunk say in sync.

Lance inputs the password and then freezes, a sly smile forming on his face. "Wait, wait, wait... Explain this to me. What’s with you two? I didn’t know you were familiar..."

"I met her when I was going in to the studio." Hunk says, "Turns out you've told her _a lot_."

"So much." She agrees with a smile. "And it was all true, Hunk is as lovely as you said he was."

Lance doesn't miss the way his friend's brow twitches and he fumbles for the steering wheel a bit.

It felt to him like there was a slight glimmer of chemistry between the two of them. And he was entirely down to help them out... if they needed it. His friend didn't usually think so... but he had serious game.

"Allura's idea. And look at that, we happened to find you." Hunk quips, "So about Shiro? What are you going to do?"

Lance taps away on screen, shoulders sinking with relief. "I just put in a rush order for a bagel basket... andddd... Keith's number is now sent to me."

" _Keith_ , huh?" Hunk wonders, "So was he like a dirty biker or like Danny Zuko?"

"Neither, but he did have a mullet."

"A mullet." Allura echoes. "On purpose?"

Lance snorts, holding back laughter. Mullets in general were weird but... That guy made it work. He wouldn't admit it out loud though. He logs into his email account, sending off a quick email to one of his acquaintances about getting Keith's motorcycle sent to him as soon as humanly possible.

"Was he cute?" wonders Hunk absentmindedly.

The atmosphere tenses a bit. Lance holds his tongue, coughing to dispel of the awkwardness in the vehicle. Allura didn't know about their pact yet. And if he had anything to do with it, she wouldn't. There were maybe about five things Lance Mcclain couldn’t be upfront or transprent about.

...Ten of them were his sexuality.

* * *

By the time Keith gets out of the shower, having had a really tough day and being 100% ready to give up and sleep, there is a knock on the door.

Katie can’t be back yet (she had keys anyways) so he automatically knows that it isn't her. He opens the door warily, a towel still hung around his neck. "Hi?"

He doesn't know this tall, brooding person but they seem to be all about the business, toting an expensive suit and a permanent frown. "Keith Kogane?"

"Yeah, that’s me." says Keith, leaning back as the man extends a hand, holding out a business card. He reluctantly takes it. The man's name is Kolivan and evidently, he works at the studio with Lance. He has a pretty good idea of what this is for. "Did he send my motorcycle?"

"Yes. Mr. Mcclain ensured it was delivered in perfect condition. It’s parked in the downstairs lot. If anything is out of place, do give us a call."

Keith nods. "Okay."

With that, Kolivan sets off, and gives Keith a moment to recollect himself. While he doesn’t doubt that Lance had done as his associate had mentioned, a part of him was curious as to what this 'perfect condition' entailed.

He threw caution to the wind and headed down to his motorcycle. At first glance, he nearly didn't recognize it. Not only was it brought home... it had been _cleaned_. There was a bow on top of it, in a startlingly gorgeous blue. He had to hand it to the actor, he really knew how to _deliver_.

"Keith, what’re you doing down here?" asks a voice.

He turns and spots Katie, toting her school backpack and uniform and really significant undereye bags. "It’s been... an interesting day." He says curtly. "Let’s go upstairs."

"No, seriously!" She laughs, heading up the stairs as he follows after her. "You’re in a particularly good mood..."

Keith knows she won’t believe him but that wasn’t going to stop him from doing it anyways. "What if I told you Lance Mcclain was in our apartment?"

She scoffs, spinning around to face him. "Yeaaaah, and I’m the freaking green paladin. Dream on."

Keith rolls his eyes and ruffles her hair, chuckling as she bats his hand away. "Whatever, let’s just go home."

If only he’d known that he would soon cross paths with Lance Mcclain again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god hallura owns my whole ass... *choking back tears* i love them


	4. episode 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lance and keith try to contact each other while the former deals with critical problems on set.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **so in light of recent season 4 events, i suppose matt is now around the same age as the primary paladins... this isn’t going to hinder shatt because they (all characters minus katie) are all 18 and over. how bout that season 4 though? crazy stuff, man. my galra generals deserved better.**
> 
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> 
> anyways!! somehow the last chapter exploded overnight and i got way more reads than usual?? thank you for that!! i’m so happy so many of you like it as much as you do! your support keeps this story running.

> **[11:06 AM] You:**  Keith I hope you don't mind but I took your number from my bud's phone
> 
> **[11:06 AM]** **You:** I still have your jacket lmao

Lance's eyes scan over his last sent text for the hundredth time, recognizing that he was taking a huge gamble by doing this. Keith could very easily screenshot this number, expose it as his, have hoard of people call and message him and make him have to get it cut off--again. While Keith hadn't struck him as that shallow of a guy, he'd known him for maybe two hours tops and sometimes his judgement was shoddy.

Not to mention... Lance sent that text hours ago. No response received.

He's been carrying the jacket around with him for what felt like forever, in case Keith could pick up and come get it. With Shiro more upset than ever, Lance's choice of outings was very limited. It wasn't like he particularly wanted to go anywhere now either... He'd had his excitement. Probably enough to fill the quota for the week.

"Lance, you're on in five minutes." Matt informs him as he zips by, carrying a prop for Acxa's next scene. His co-star always gets way to into character, considering the sneer she is wearing on her face nearly permanently. He waves at her, to no avail as she taps her foot anxiously.

Across her stands Allura.

They were working all over the place filming this episode. This was supposed to be right after Red is critically injured by Fallah's hand and the team is questioning her credibility as the next leader.

He certainly trusts her. Allura has barely been his friend but he already feels like he can confide in her everything. Almost everything.

Unlike Acxa, Lance can see that Allura is not acting agitated. She is. He watches their scene with rapt interest, setting his phone down on his lap.

_"--I'm starting to think the lions may not be as intelligent as we all thought." snarks Green, arms crossed over her chest. "Clearly they made the wrong choice. How can someone like you possibly be our new leader?"_

_Fallah's expression darkens. "It's as though you think I harmed your friend on purpose. He got in my way."_

_"All I'm saying is that a paladin of Voltron does not seek to kill people and if they do injure, they apologize for it." She spits, "Get off your high horse. You think you're the only person who's lost someone?"_

_The other woman falls silent, glancing over to the room where Red is hospitalized in. A flash of regret passes through her eyes, hardening as soon as Green begins to speak again._

_"We've all been through hell since the day we found those lions. Blue lost the friend who came here with him, the one who you're replacing. He's hurting more than anyone but he kept telling us to believe in him and you--what, can just stomp all over that?" Green asks incredulously, "If you step into that lion and it rejects you, you're done. We'll drop you back off on your shitstorm of a planet so you can get yourself together."_

_"Is that a promise?" laughs Fallah hollowly. "Until today, I have never even heard of Voltron, much less sought to pilot it. I don't want to be here any more than you want me to be here."_

_She stalks off, pausing two feet away from Green and then turns back to her, coldness radiating from her body. "Trust is a two-way street. You must give some to get some."_

_Green looks away, making no indication that she'd heard anything that Fallah had said. With that, they both go in opposite directions._

_**"CUT!"** _

Acxa and Allura both break character, being applauded by Ezor who is stuffing her face of pretzels from the snack table. Acxa rolls her eyes (though to Lance it looks more amused than anything else) and stays behind to get some notes from one of the assistant directors.

Lance raises a brow teasingly as Allura walks towards him after receiving the go-ahead from Ulaz. "Nice acting there. Really makes me believe you want out."

She laughs, but it nearly completely mirrors the one she'd done in the earlier take. It doesn't slip by Lance, whose brows furrow a bit. "Thank you."

"Are you in this scene?" He asks her, running by the dialogue through his head. She is, as well as Acxa and Ezor. The only one missing would be Lotor.

"Yes." She hums, as a makeup artist speeds towards them and hurriedly touches up their faces. "Prepared to bring the heat?"

"For you, always." He grins, sauntering over to Ulaz as he gestures to where Lance has to stand and the movements he has to make.

This was the scene directly after Green's confrontation with Fallah and the discourse that spreads amongst the team. It was also where Blue had to start second-guessing his deceased friend and rely on the injured Red for a bit. That bit, he was not looking forward to. Luckily for him, Lotor was not present in the studio to make fun of his acting or just annoy him in general.

"Ready, Lance?" asks Ezor with an equally as goofy grin as she gets ready to make her entrance.

"You know it!" He returns, schooling his expression as they prepare to start the first take. As soon as he hears the cue, he begins his line.

_"Green, what's the matter?" asks Blue, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder as she clutches a ratty, old bag in one hand. "What is that?"_

_Her expression is infuriated as she spins around to face the stunned Fallah. She all but throws the bag in her direction, and it hits the ground noisily, spilling open. "You want to know what's wrong? She was planning on leaving."_

_Fallah gasps. "You had no right to--!"_

_"You're such a huge, quiznacking piece of shit." She interjects coldly. "First you try to injure our friend, refuse the lion, and now you're going to cut and run?"_

_Fallah's eyes shift from Green to the quiet Blue beside her. "It isn't like that! I--!"_

_"What's going on? Red said he heard yelling." yawns Yellow as she descends from a staircase. Immediately her eyes catch onto the bag on the floor. "Are you leaving?"_

_"No, I mean... I..." Fallah's expression harden. "I shouldn't stay. Especially not if I'm going to be threatened every day for the rest of my life."_

_Yellow's eyes go wide. "She can't leave! Tell her she can't leave! Blue?!"_

_Blue doesn't reply for the longest while. He looks from Fallah to his friends and then he drops down to one knee and begins to help her collect her things. "I can't do that." He says softly. "If she doesn't want to stay, then we can't force her to."_

_Fallah snatches a silver compass from him and shoves it into the bag._

_"Blue, you were the one who made us fly all the way out here to get this girl." Yellow whines. "You said you had faith in her!! And now you're letting her walk away?!"_

_He exhales quietly. "I had faith that the lion had chosen the right person." Blue glances up to meet Fallah's gaze. "And I still do... I trust that she'll make the right choice."_

_Instead of saying anything, Fallah swallows and then grabs the bag from him, hurrying off down the hall without another word._

_"You're an idiot." Green says. "A total and utter idiot."_

_"Yeah, probably." He agrees and stares at the hairpin left in his hand almost wistfully._

**_"CUT!"_ **

Lance breaks character and grimaces, standing up with a huff. "My knees don't work like they used to before."

"Hmm, sounds suspicious." Ezor cackles, turning sparkling eyes to Acxa happily. "And that, Acxa, was amazing! Your hatred is so realistic."

"Thank you." says Acxa sincerely, and there is a glimmer of a blush on her cheeks. "By the way, Lance, your phone's been going off this entire time."

"Wait, really?" His head snaps off in the direction of where his phone is lying on a table, lit up with god knows what sorts of messages. Maybe they were all from Keith. "I gotta check!"

"Nooope, get your ass back over there!" scolds Matt as he passes by, pushing Lance back into place. "We're doing it again."

Lance grimaces but sucks it up and four takes later, he is finally released for another short break before he has to make his way up to record some looping audio. He makes a mad dash for his phone, finding that Keith had called twice, messaged several and he'd missed all of his chances to progress any further.

> **[2:36 PM] Keith:** sorry I was in class all day
> 
> **[2:36 PM] Keith:** can't meet today, I have to go to work asap :|
> 
> **[2:37 PM] Keith:** how about tomorrow?
> 
> **[2:38 PM] Keith:** ???

Lance groans, mentally going over his schedule for the next few days. He's booked solid for the next five days, except in the evenings after seven. 

> **[3:02 PM] You:** sorry, i was filming smthn. I can't do tomorrow unless its after 7 ://

He receives a message quickly, a bit surprised that Keith's blackberry could even handle his iPhone 7's messages.

> **[3:03 PM] Keith:** working again, what about the weekend?

That, he's not sure about. As of now, his weekend looks cautiously free but he doesn't want to tell Keith that only to have to cancel at last moment. Celebrity or not, Keith was busy too.

A hand suddenly clamps over his eyes and he shrieks, batting the offender away, already knowing who it is. "I'm going, I'm going!"

"Just go film your lines and text when you're in the booth!" scowls Matt, muttering about what a terrible millennial he was.

"You're a millennial too!" He yells as he sets off, met by a dismissive wave courtesy of Matt. Lance jogs up the stairs, messaging Keith to let him know that he might be free but would let him know as soon as he could call his elusive manager, Slav. For whatever reason, his bodyguard seemed to really dislike Slav, but the guy was a genius, both comedic and otherwise.

"Come in, Lance." says the technical producer overseeing his looping. Due to the conditions he had filmed the last Voltron sequence in, he had to rerecord his voice so that it was properly audible.

Lance puts his headphones over his ears, and prepares for another full afternoon of back and forth filming.

* * *

"Feels like we hang out more than our characters do." comments Lance as he slips into his paladin armour for the upcoming scene. They were halfway through the week, which meant Lance still had to get through two more days of furious filming before he was entitled to a genuine break. No more living like a gym rat or scarfing down endless amounts of hard-boiled carrot sticks.

Allura, already dressed in her rebel attire nods. "I'd say so."

He notices that she keeps looking towards the door, while the director barks orders to everyone nearby. "You okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine." She says automatically but he's not really buying it. There's something on Allura's mind that Lance can't decipher or remedy.

"Take one, everyone in places!" trills an assistant director. Lance scurries off to his starting position, taking a deep breath as his eyes gloss over Ulaz who nods patiently. Then, the cue rings out.

_"Fallah." says Blue as he approaches the stagnant woman standing in front of the black lion. "Can we talk?"_

_She scowls, and adjusts her bag over her shoulder. "What more do you want to degrade me with?"_

_"I'm not here to do that." He says softly, "My friend, Black, was the previous paladin. He and I, we grew up together." Blue explains. "Did everything together. Except he had a family and I had a handful of coins and the clothes on my back. He didn't make me feel any lesser for it."_

_She doesn't say much, but she does look over at him, quietly urging him to continue._

_"When we came here, to this galaxy, it was to find my family but we got caught up in something bigger than ourselves." He mumbles. "What I'm saying is that I can't force you to stay if you're miserable but I also can't condone letting you walk away without trying."_

_"Trying what?" asks Fallah, brows drawn together in suspicion._

_Blue gestures to the lion. "Try piloting him."_

_**"CUT!"** _

When Lance breaks character, he doesn't feel relieved or as though he'd just accomplished much. He feels a bit uneasy about that scene, more so because he couldn't feel anything from Allura. It isn't Lance's fault that he gets so self-involved with his acting. Maybe in another life he really was the blue paladin. It felt as though Allura wasn't giving it her all on purpose.

"We're going to revisit this scene later, Lance." says Ulaz. "You're done for the day."

"Wait, don't I have more looping to do?"

His reply is a promise to get it done on a later date. While he is excused and allowed to go home, Allura lingers behind, evidently being lectured heavily by Ulaz. If it's about her performance, something tells Lance that scolding her won't help much. As he texts Shiro to let him know that he was ready to be escorted home, he paces in front of the door waiting for Hunk who was scheduled to come to the studio in two minutes tops.

As if on cue, the door opens and in walks Hunk balancing several trays on his arms. "Hey Lance, what's--"

"Something's wrong with Allura, man." He interjects, pointing at the woman as she nods beneath the brunt of Ulaz's displeasure. "She's not herself."

"She sick?" Hunk wonders. "She never mentioned it last night."

"Last n--" Lance scrutinizes his friend who immediately grins nervously and mutters that they had linked up on Instagram and Snapchat. "Alright, moving on. She won't talk to me. But she'll talk to you. I'm worried about her."

Hunk smiles, "I'll see what I can do. Where are you going?"

"I'm going home. Tired as hell." says Lance as he shrugs on his--Keith's--jacket. He notices that Hunk is looking at him strangely and tilts his head. "What?"

"Nothing, it's just... I thought you would've given that jacket back by now. What's up with that?"

Lance is tempted to explain everything in painstaking detail but Hunk is already suspicious of him and Keith anyways. Perhaps another time, away from prying ears. "Just never got around to it."

Hunk relents on the topic and Lance slips away, relieved to not have to mention exactly why holding onto Keith's jacket was so weirdly important to him. The truth was that he barely knew why, himself.

The call of his name alerts Lance of Shiro having finally shown up. His bodyguard is wearing yet another one of his trademark tight shirts that accentuates his muscles built to wrangle. Lance can recall having had another bodyguard before Shiro, but none as capable as him.

"This ended earlier than usual." comments Shiro as he walks side by side with Lance to return to the car.

"Oh, yeah." He says absent-mindedly, praying that Hunk will figure out what was eating Allura. "I’m hungry. Can we stop at the 34th Street Taqueria?"

"I suppose..." says Shiro uncertainly, "Or are you trying to run away again?"

Lance can see that his insolence was taking its toll on his bodyguard. He doesn't bother trying to brush it off or bring up the basket of bagels--which he knew Shiro had completely eaten. "I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry, Shiro."

A sudden buzz from his phone alerts him of another message, and he glances down.

> **[4:26 PM] Keith:** I deliver pizza, by the way. Pizza Supernova. its not self-promotion but..

A smile forms across Lance’s face as he takes in the message. It gave him a pretty good idea, one that he is ashamed to admit that he hadn’t thought of until now. "Forget the churros. I have some lines to memorize!" If he tells Shiro that he was trying to meet with someone, he'd probably shoot him down and then bring him the pizza himself.

Shiro stares at him blankly for a second and then exhales. "You know, Lance... I never know what's going through your head." But he doesn’t push the topic any further as he opens the door to the car and lets Lance into the back seat. The windows are tinted although it is just an SUV. Shiro’s specialty was being able to pilot these large, clunky vehicles.

"Shiro, waitttt!!" cries a voice. Both of them turn to find a distressed Matt as he runs towards them, bearing a black jacket in his hands. He is huffing and puffing by the time he reaches the car, bending over with his hands on his knees to regain his breath. "Glad I... caught you... You left this last night."

"Oh, this is..." Shiro accepts the jacket with a flustered smile. "Thank you." "No problem. Are we still on for later?" Matt may be a nerd, Lance notes, but he had quite a bit of stamina that always seemed to replenish itself at the drop of a hat. "Or is that...?"

"Yeah, I--" He sneaks a glance back to Lance whose shit-eating grin seemingly makes him even more upset. "--I'll call."

Matt gives another smile, waves goodbye and then disappears again. By the time Shiro gets into the vehicle and closes the door, Lance is already up to his ears with excitement.

* * *

After Lance gets home, he places an order for a veggie lovers pizza and a side of onion rings--and two cans of soda.

He doesn't usually order pizza (his trainers abhore it) and certainly not from the place Keith works at, but he's open to trying it this time around.

Keith's jacket lies innocently in a folded pile on his couch, waiting to be returned to its rightful owner.

Lance had ordered the pizza twenty minutes ago with a guarantee that it’d reach him within a half hour or it was free. He had already taken out a wad of bills in preparation to pay, but he also knew that he wasn’t going to eat that whole pizza all by himself.

He stretches, just as the doorbell rings. Lance makes a dash to the door and lets it swing open as he leans against the door as dramatically as he can. "My pizza, after so long!"

Keith, dressed in his uniform and an ugly red cap, sighs and holds the pizza up. "So you order a pizza--"

"And onion rings."

" _Whatever_. And your idea of getting me here is to ask for the deliverboy with the mullet?" He exhales, eyebrow raised.

"Pretty genius, huh?" Lance laughs and then opens the door. "You got anymore deliveries or are you free?"

"No, this was my last. Thankfully." answers Keith, swinging off his cap as he reluctantly steps past the threshold. "Pay up."

"Y’know, I probably can’t eat a whole pizza on my own anyways." Lance says, hoping that the other boy would catch onto his drift by then. When he receives no indication, he rolls his eyes and gestures to the living room. "Eat it with meee."

"Don’t you have any friends?" Keith inquires and then pales. "No, I meant--"

Lance feigns distress, placing a hand over his heart. "Ouch, now you really do owe me a meal. Sit."

Keith lowers himself onto the couch and notices his jacket. "Wow, I never realized how much I missed it until now."

"It wasn’t neglected, I wore it a lot of other places too." Lance quips as he opens the pizza box and sighs dreamily at the scent that wafts up to his nose. "Wow, I love treat days."

The black-haired boy stifles a laugh, "You work out?"

"Of course I do. I need to stay fit for all the fight scenes." He responds, narrowing his eyes playfully. "Not like you don’t already know, Superfan."

Keith glares at him, sitting upright again. "It’s my roommate’s--!"

"Potato, tomato."

"I don’t think you’re using that saying correctly!" protests Keith but they burst into a fit of quiet laughter after realizing how unnecessarily worked up they’d gotten.

As Keith takes a piece of the pizza, noting that Lance had put two plates out--as if he’d _known_ that he’d accept--he can’t help but wonder why it feels so normal.

In what world is the pizza delivery boy supposed to be invited in for the very pizza he’d delivered to a rich, famous customer? Things were getting weird these days and Keith expected they would continue to be as such.

"Thanks for what you did with my bike." Keith says after a moment, and Lance glances up at him with a carefree smile.

"No problem, Mullet."

"I hate that nickname." He scoffs but to a certain degree, doesn’t mind when Lance says it. He wouldn’t admit that to him though.

Lance’s house is an inconspicuous two-storey loft that makes Keith intensely envious. He has it furnished and decorated sensibly, not at all filled with many useless trinkets or antiques that existed solely for the purpose of boasting about.

Without appearing too nosy, Keith can see photographs and a select few trophies and a couple paintings of marine life. He has a feeling Lance may like blue as much as the character he plays.

"I mean, this goes without saying and all, but you won't post my number anywhere, will you?" Lance asks after another benign moment of silence.

"No." He replies automatically, hoping he wasn’t caught staring at his surroundings. "Who’d believe me anyways? My roommate thought I was high."

"Yeah, do you even have an Instagram account?" teases Lance, not expecting Keith to turn as red as his uniform. "Oh my god, you do?"

"Yeah, it’s just pics of my... _major_."

"And that would be...?" Lance presses, taking an onion ring and popping it into his mouth.

"...Social work."

Keith isn’t expecting the sudden silence that Lance expels. He’d expected a bit of surprise, maybe a lot, but the silence fills him with more worry than it should. He looks up from his crust. "What?"

"That’s..." Lance’s eyes are brighter than ever and he is now brimming with excitement. "That’s _amazing!_ I didn’t know you liked children? You looked like you’d eat them for breakfast if they got too close--no offense."

"Wh--am I the Grinch or something?!"

"I mean, minus the green..."

"Lance!" He wonders if he had that sort of air to him.

The actor laughs as he shakes his head. "Nah man, that’s still really cool. I’m so busy with filming that I can’t even get the degree I really wanted. I’d have to go back to university for _ever_ if I was serious about trying."

"What’s that?" asks Keith as he takes a sip of his cola.

"Marine biology."

It doesn’t strike Keith with that much surprise. The colour scheme of his house wasn’t the result of Lance liking his character too much, it was because he legitimately liked sea life. " _Oh_."

"Are you laughing at me?!"

"I’m not!" He says firmly, but he can’t fight the smile on his face. "It’s just, I thought you were narcissistic about playing Blue or something."

"It’s not like I have commissioned portraits up on the walls." contests Lance as he shakes his head sullenly. "Can’t believe you think so little of me, man. If you’re looking for narcissism, then Lotor’s chateau is across town."

"If I was looking for a good character I’d go to Lotor’s place."

"Oh my god, I knew it. Y’know, I always had this hunch that if you hated _me_ , then you must stan Red."

Keith rolls his eyes. "I just think Red is a cool paladin."

"He murdered entire planets because he thought it would bring his brother back!"

"It’s the thought that counts." Keith says, ‘miffed’ but not really.

They share another laugh, this time at Lance’s expense as he laments his fate. Before they realize it, there is the telltale sound of the door opening and keys rattling in the front. "Lance, shouldn’t you be resting?" calls a voice exasperatedly. "...And did you order a pizza?"

"Here comes my bodyguard." sings Lance, "Pretend you’re innocent and he’ll leave you alone."

In walks Shiro, someone both Lance and Keith know like the back of their hands.

Instead of being cautious of Keith sitting in Lance’s living room, the older man actually takes a step back and his eyes bulge.

"Keith?!"

"Shiro?!" echoes the aforementioned.

"What are _you_ doing here?!" They exclaim in sync, leaving a very, very confused Lance stuck in the middle.


	5. episode 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the broganes catch up. lance has an awkward interview while hunk and allura share some sugar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **a general note.**  
>  voltron is to them what riverdale is to us. it took the world by surprise and rose to popularity. that includes all the actors—giving them the exposure they need to move onto other things. as netflix’s most popular show, they also have to meet extremely high expectations.
> 
> anyways, sorry for the late update!! school’s been kicking my ass but i’m addicted to this fic so i’m back.

"Wait, wait, _wait_!" Lance interrupts after Keith and Shiro had exclaimed one another’s name about eight times each (enough was enough). "What is going _on_ here?! You two know each other?"

Shiro rakes a hand through his hair and nods haplessly. "Lance, I mentioned my family before didn't I?"

"Yeah..." He says, mentally assessing what he did and didn’t know about Shiro’s family. He had a mother and father (both back in Japan as of now) and... "Oh my god, _**this**_ is your baby brother? The one who used to steal the blankets off your bed and make a fort in the kitchen? The one with all the sesame street paraphernalia?!"

Keith, to his credit, pales like sheet of white paper. "Shiro, really?" He groans, burying his head in his hands.

Keith, the pizza delivery boy who he’d hitched a ride with... was his bodyguard’s little brother of whom many adorable stories were told about. Never in a million years would he have been able to predict that.

"Yes. Keith is my younger brother." replies Shiro, as he whirls around to face Keith. "Now how do _you_ know Lance?"

Keith shrugs, evidently not that bothered by having to tell the story even though Lance is chewing his nails with worry. "A couple days ago he jumped onto the back of my motorcycle and I--"

" _You_ were his accomplice?!" interjects Shiro with fury blazing in his eyes. Both Keith and Lance recoil instinctively, wearing matching looks of guilt (although Lance personally thought it was mostly his fault). "Of all the people..."

"I was innocent!" protests Keith while Lance gives him a withering look. "Mostly innocent."

Instead of looking particularly troubled, Shiro drops it and exhales loudly. "So what were you doing here?"

"I invited him over for pizza. Couldn't eat it all myself, especially since you ditched me, Shiro." Lance says, placing emphasis on ‘ditched’.

Keith’s brows furrow. " _Ditched_ \--?"

"Anyways!" The bodyguard says. "I came to grab my charger."

Lance gestures to the mantle where the black charger lies on top in a coiled loop. As Shiro puts it into his pocket, he clears his throat. "If you were headed home now, Keith, I could give you a ride."

"Where are you going?" asks his brother.

Lance doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to look at Keith the same way. _Brothers_...

"Er--don’t worry about it.” says Shiro evasively. Lance and Keith share a knowing look as the latter stands up, smoothening his clothes with a shrug. "Yeah, okay."

Lance grins, "See ya, Keith. You have to tell me your instagram handle soon."

"No, it’s really not that interesting..." He coughs, evading Lance the same way Shiro had evaded him. Lance can now see similarity like never before...

Lance waves goodbye to him as Keith puts his shoes back on and then approaches his motorcycle. On the way out, Shiro smiles cryptically. "It’s keith_kogane42 by the way."

"Shiro!" barks Keith from outside.

With a laugh, Shiro bids goodbye to Lance and then makes his exit.

As he closes the door, Lance can’t help but wonder why after meeting Keith, his world seemed to be growing smaller (and for the better) every day. Soon he’d probably find out that Keith knew even _more_ people who he worked with.

Well, for now, he needs a shower.

* * *

As soon as Shiro shuts the door to the SUV, Keith’s motorcycle set in the trunk, his younger brother begins to speak. "You never told me who you worked for."

"For security purposes." He admits, "I’m sorry, Keith. I didn't think I’d be working for him long."

"How long _have_ you been working for him?"

"Few months."

Keith scoffs, crossing his arms. "Figures." He didn’t like when his brother kept things from him. They should be completely honest with one another at all times but he was beginning to think it was a one-way street.

Shiro drums on the steering wheel. "I was going to resign."

"Why?" Before he can form a coherent response, a thought occurs to Keith. "Was your therapist against it?"

"I thought Lance would be too much to handle when they offered me the job." He falls quiet for a moment before continuing. "But I got used to it eventually and didn’t see much point."

A flash of regret passes through Keith’s gaze. "Sorry." He didn’t mean to make his brother talk about something he didn’t want to broach. Shiro’s prosthetic arm shines in the evening light, bright and filled to the brim with secrets that were not meant for strangers.

"Not your fault." replies Shiro. His cellphone in his pocket rings loudly as he winces.

Keith looks over at him curiously. "Where were you going?"

"Oh, just... out."

"Shiro." He scowls, "You keep avoiding my question but it looked like Lance already knew. _Spill_."

His brother sighs, making a turn into Keith’s area. "Yeah, he knows. I’m meeting with Matt."

"You’re--" His eyes widen when it all begins to connect. " _Oh_."

"Don't tell Katie anything." He groans. "Nothing is set in stone yet."

Keith settles back into the seat. His big brother... seeing his roommate’s big brother. If they got married, they’d be in-laws... and he and Katie would probably never get rid of each other. It was probably destiny. Keith cracks a smile. "I’m glad you’re moving on."

"Speaking of moving on... what is it with you and Lance? Did he really just invite you to his place for the sake of it?"

"Don’t make it sound weird, we’re barely even friends..." Keith grumbles, and as an afterthought adds "I don’t even like Voltron."

"Lance isn’t just Voltron, Keith." His brother says reproachfully. "He does humanitarian work in South America, volunteers at that marine charity in Miami and he’s a good guy when he isn’t running off."

"So, he’s _never_ good?"

"No--Keith!" He groans in exasperation, stifling a laugh. "At any rate, let me know if anything happens, alright? I’ve been slacking as a brother--"

"You broke our snap streak." quips Keith. "It was unforgivable."

"Your blackberry curve can barely support snapchat, try again." retorts his brother, " _Anyways_. I want to be there for you when you need it. If anything or any _one_ is ever bothering you, let me know."

Keith nods, watching as the apartment building comes into view. "Katie would _love_ to see you, y’know."

"I wish I could come in but I think--" As if on cue, his cellphone buzzes in his pocket. "I think I’m late."

He shrugs. "That’s alright. Have fun on your date."

"It’s not a--" Shiro begins as the car comes to a stop. "Bye, Keith. See you."

As Keith loads his motorcycle out of the trunk, Shiro winds the window down and calls his name. "Hey, you sure you just went to Lance’s place to hang out? Or--"

"Uh, not exactly." He says, "He had my jacket back when w--" The sudden realization that he had again forgotten the jacket dawns on him as he sighs. "Shit."

"I thought it looked familiar whenever Lance wore it." muses his brother. "I’ll bring it by later this week if you want?"

"Uh, don’t worry too much about it. I have other coats." Keith doesn’t mind Lance having taken a liking to his Depop-aesthetic jacket. It wasn’t like anyone would _know_  that it was his. Maybe except Katie and his brother. He bids goodbye to Shiro, watches him disappear down the road and then heads into the parking lot to stow his motorcycle away. 

As soon as he makes it back to his apartment, he can hear the telltale signs of Katie Holt having returned to the apartment. The _mess_. He snatches up a wadded up sock in front of the door and exhales. "I’m home!"

"I’m in the living room." She calls, and as he hangs up his hat, notices that she’s tinkering with another robot next to the coffee table. "Did you bring any extras home?"

"Not this time." He says apologetically. He and Lance had completely cleaned out that whole pizza. He didn’t even particularly like the toppings and yet... "I’m going to shower. Did you--?"

"There’s some hot water yet if that’s what you’re asking." grins Katie as she angles her head to face him. "What’s got you all smiley?"

Keith furrows his brows. "I’m not smiling?"

"No, but you’re way happier than usual. What happened?" She wiggles a brow. "Did you meet a cute boy?"

He shakes his head as he shuffles over to his room. "Sorry, you have to be a level 40 friend to unlock _that_ conversation."

"Keeeiiiith!" She shouts as he escapes. "You can run now but you can’t run forever."

He chuckles to himself as he opens his door, hardly fazed as Rover comes speeding out from beneath his bed, whizzing down the hall as if caught red-handed. He doesn’t even want to know what that robot was up to. As Keith takes off his shirt bearing the Pizza Supernova logo, his cellphone beeps.

> **[7:32 PM] Unknown Number:** Did u get home safe??

He wonders why he hasn’t changed Lance’s name in his phone yet. As he inputs a reply, he changes the way it appears, mindful of what was okay and what wasn’t.

> **[7:34 PM] You:** I did. thank you.

The reply comes in almost immediately and it makes him smile more than it should. 

> **[7:34 PM] Lance:** Np, have a good night, Keith :)
> 
> **[7:35 PM] Lance:** Btw add my snap... @lanceylance :) have smthn to show u.

Keith reluctantly does as he’s told, not at all surprised that Lance’s snap score is over 500,000. His, in comparison, was just pushing 10K. As soon as he adds him and received the added-back notification, a snap comes in.

Lance, wearing Keith’s jacket and a purely satisfied look on his face.

_'mind if i keep it a while?'_

He wonders if he should or should not snap back with his face. It isn’t like he’s hiding anything. He may be camera-shy, but Lance knows what he looks like. He snaps a pic, adds the caption telling him to go for it, and then heads off for his shower.

...Miles away, Lance Mcclain stares at the 7-second photo of Keith Kogane in all his unnecessarily gorgeous, mullet-wearing glory and feels his heart give a dangerous stutter. As he screenshots the photo, a thought strikes him with enough intensity to seriously hurt. Keith... was not good for his health at _all_.

* * *

Lance wakes up the next morning at 8, and prepares for yet another filled day of work. Today, instead of going to the studio, he has an interview with a popular magazine to promo stuff about Voltron.

Two new stills from the new season were to be released later on during the day after the magazine had released the interview with him. He was usually very good with concealing spoilers and knew how to evade _those_ questions by now.

He fires off one last message to Hunk, asking him to check on Allura and then hops into the car with Shiro who looks relatively easy-going. "Your date go well?"

"Er... yeah, it did." His bodyguard replies after a moment of hesitation, "How was your night?"

"Ehh, about the same." For some reason, it feels like to him that Shiro was more tranquil than usual. No doubt thanks to Matt. Shiro doesn’t say anything, nor does he drive until Lance purses his lips. "Shiroooo?"

"Sorry." He blinks, gesturing to Lance’s jacket. "You’re still wearing Keith’s..."

"Oh." He smiles goofily. "I’m kinda attached to it." It was a green bomber jacket with an orange stripe around its sleeves and a handful of pins on the front. "Think I might make it my trademark."

Shiro snorts as he puts the car in gear and heads out of the driveway. "If you wear the same outfit over and over, the press will murder you."

"...Daniel Radcliffe did it."

"Daniel Radcliffe is edgy. You aren’t."

Lance pouts but he has to admit truth. He isn’t an edgy white boy playing the Jughead Jones archtype. He’s Lance Mcclain, a paladin of Voltron! In theory.

The car is quiet until they reach the building for the interview. Lance is visibly bouncing with enthusiasm (and coffee) and when the interviewer, a popular editor named Hira, finds him, he rises to his feet with an outstretched hand.

Literal seconds later, his hand freezes up because this woman has a claw-like grip. "Lance Mcclain in the flesh." She says, smiling. "It’s so great to meet you in person."

"I--yeah! You too." He responds, trying to feel the bones in his hand again.

"This way." says Hira, leading him down the winding hallway to the interviewing room where various cameras are set up. Shiro cautiously seats himself behind the cameras as close as he can to Lance. The woman double-checks her hair--a rather striking magenta colour and nods. "Okay, let’s begin."

She starts off with a couple basic questions about Voltron’s new season and about the identity of the woman set to play Fallah. Lance pointedly skirts around those ones. He’s used to it, but this Hira woman has a very demanding way to her. She’s intent on getting the answers she wants. He can respect that, but it annoys him a bit.

"Here are some questions from our loyal readers." She says, mostly to the camera than him. " _Mrs_BlueLion_ wants to know what products you use for your hair."

"First of all, I love your name!" He says, looking towards the camera with a grin. "I use a matte pomade by the POC-run company _Imperio_ in the colour chestnut!" He is wholly prepared for these sort of questions. Lance prefers to answer these things that don’t have anything to do with spoilers. He can rattle on for days. "Unless you meant shampoo, in which case I use the conditioner from _Naturelle_ with the scent seaberry. It makes your hair smooth and silky no matter how much you might go through during the day."

Lance truly thinks he should be a business partner by now for all these hair and skincare companies.

Hira, for her part, nods and writes something down on her clipboard--although it is majorly an oral interview so he really doesn’t know for sure _what_ she’s scribbling. "What about your clothes? Who are you wearing right now?"

Maybe he should’ve taken the jacket off because now he has to forge a response. "These bad boys are from _Nike_." He says, gesturing to his running shoes as the camera pans downwards. "These distressed jeans are from _Hollister_ and the jacket is from--"

"Thrift store?" She interjects, tapping her pen to her cheek. "It does look... worn."

Well, it wasn’t exactly _his_ , now was it? Her words hadn’t sounded like a compliment but still, Lance keeps a smile on his face. "Basically!"

"Surely you have money, since you’re a celebrity now." Hira remarks, "Is thrifting a way for you to connect with your old life?"

 _Ouch_. He was beginning to realize exactly what he felt coming from her. The scent of ignorance. She was completely out of line with that comment but he couldn’t very well let it show. "I just wanted the jacket, nothing else to it."

"If you say so." She says, changing the subject. Lance wagers a glance at Shiro while Hira riffles through the papers on her lap. " _BluePaladamn_ asks if you’re working on anything else besides Voltron."

Lance muses over the question. "Voltron is my first big show, but I’m filming a cameo on _Zombocalypse_!" He was allowed to talk about that since they’d already publicized that ages ago. It was scheduled to air in a week. He still couldn’t wait for the world to see him die brutally as a zombie. "It was a lot of fun to film and it’ll probably be even more fun to watch."

"We’ll take your word for it." Hira says, again turning to the camera. "Now for the questions we _really_ want answered." She leans forward excitedly, "Are you seeing anyone, Lance?"

If this wasn’t a violation of privacy, Lance had never seen one. "Nope." He says, popping the ‘p’ at the end. "Voltron is my life, y’know?"

"If you’re married to your job, how can you ever marry a girl?" She responds flippantly, "If you’re not seeing anyone, what kind of girl do you _like_?"

 _Girl_. It _had_ to be a girl. A dark feeling in his gut was beginning to spread upwards. He kept thinking about the question, about what kind of _girl_ he’d like. Maybe he didn’t _like_ a girl. And yet Hira kept saying _she_.

"I’m not really picky about types." He admits, "I guess, _they_ ’d have to be fun to be with? Oh, and respectful--just a decent human being, I guess." Lance really hopes that him throwing out all the gender-neutral pronouns would get through to his interviewer.

Hira doesn’t so much as blink, but she does turn to the camera. "Hear that, ladies? You all have a chance with Lance Mcclain."

It didn’t work. He was really starting to hate this interview and judging by the look Shiro was giving him, it was visible too.

"Can you address the rumours about you and your co-star Acxa--who plays the green paladin--dating on set?" presses Hira.

"We’re not." He says immediately because it’s the truth. He doesn’t have any intention of doing so either. "Acxa and I are just friends."

"But if you _could_ , wouldn’t you date her? She has a great body and she’s very respectful--just your type!"

Lance counts to five in his head, hoping he can cool himself down and not--"I have respect for my friends too so I wouldn’t talk about them like that." What did this lady think Acxa was? A piece of meat?

"Do you have your eye on any girl though?"

That was probably the last straw. The heteronormativity was too much for him to handle. He looks at Shiro and tries to convey that he couldn’t do this anymore and his bodyguard rises to his feet, and clears his throat. "We’re done here." He declares.

"I still have more questions." protests Hira, though she reluctantly signals to the cameraman to stop rolling.

"Sorry." says Shiro, but he isn’t at all. He weaves towards Lance and takes him by the arm, "This interview was supposed to be about Voltron and it became prying into his personal life. His publicist will give you a call."

She calls Lance’s name in outrage as Shiro leads him out of the room, back towards the car. "Lance." He whispers cautiously. "Keep it together until we get into the car."

Shiro unlocks the vehicle and Lance slips into the passenger seat, burying his head into his hands. It wasn’t even that the interview had made him sad. It was that it had infuriated him and he knew that this wasn’t the only time it would happen.

His bodyguard locks the doors as he gets into the front seat, and for the longest while he doesn’t say anything. Neither of them do.

"Did I overreact?" Lance asks after a moment.

"No, you didn’t." replies Shiro, "She was out of line."

"I shouldn’t have accepted that interview... No publicity is better than bad publicity." He sulks, peeling his hands away from his face. "I don’t even know why I got so angry--!"

Shiro exhales. "Yes, you _do_ , Lance. You were uncomfortable."

"But _why_ \--?!"

His bodyguard drums his fingers on the steering wheel as he starts the car. "I can’t answer that for you. But I think you already know."

The rest of the car ride is silent, and this time, Lance can feel something bad stirring.

* * *

"Allura!" calls Hunk as soon as he enters the studio with all of the pastries for the day. The woman in question turns to face him and he takes notice of how she’s wearing a rather fancy outfit--nothing like her character’s usual garb of dress OR her paladin armour. " _Whoa_."

"Hunk." She greets him, blinking as she notices that he is watching her outfit. She pokes experimentally at the blue skirt. "Ah, I was shooting some promotional photos for later..."

He smiles sheepishly, "Sorry for staring, aha... anyways, when are you free?"

If it catches her by surprise, it doesn’t show on her face. "Now, actually." She says, a rather sullen tone overtaking her voice. "Why?"

Hunk could clearly see that something was bothering her. Lance was right and Hunk believes he may already know what that is. "Could you help me out with something? Only if you aren’t busy, though!"

"Of course." Allura responds kindly. "Anything."

Hunk remembers when he’d been sorted into Slytherin back when he was a child. He wonders if it had been foreshadowing for the ploy he was about to put into place here. "I could use some extra hands making some more white chocolate cookies for the set. We’re all out."

That part wasn’t a lie. Lotor _really_ liked those little white cookies. As soon as he’d so much as put the platter down, Lotor had dashed for them (and shared none).

"I don’t mind." She says, pursing her lips. "But I haven’t really baked before... unless an easy bake oven counts."

"Allura." He says seriously. "Easy bake ovens always count. That’s where _I_ learned to cook for the first time."

She giggles, "You’ve come a long way... I’ll go change and be back in a moment."

As he waits for her, Hunk notices that a few of the actors who play the extras are conversing close enough for him to hear their conversation.

"Yeah, she’s not giving it 100% so the director is giving her some time off." says one, conspiratorially.

"So does that mean she’s getting replaced?" asks another.

"Maybe. Fallah’s actress needs to be good. They might as well just hire a new girl!"

Uh-oh. It was exactly as Hunk thought it was. He didn’t want Allura to get fired because she was in a bit of a slump. He really had to put this plan of his into place and soon.

As if on cue, he notices that she’s out of costume and wearing a pair of jeans and a blue blouse. "Ready to go?" She asks, peering at him worriedly. "Hunk?"

"What--yeah!" He coughs, hoping he didn’t seem that suspicious. "The van’s this way."

As they load into the vehicle and the scent of sweets becomes hard to ignore, Hunk takes off towards his workplace. The food was made in this kitchen and then brought to the places they serve.

He mainly handles the Marmora studios, but many other places nearby also worked with Sal’s. They don’t say much for the first while, and Hunk notes that although she put on a good poker face, Allura was obviously upset by the news of her potential resignation... if she didn’t get it together.

"You okay?" He asks, turning into the street that leads to Sal’s.

"Yes!" She says instantly which only does to make the situation worse. "...I’m fine." 

She sure did seem to enjoy shutting him out. Hunk expects as much since they aren’t that close, but he does hope she knows that he is her ally--and friend.

...Twenty minutes later, they stand in the middle of the largest kitchen, with various materials spread out on the counter. "Okay." announces Hunk, "We need two more batches!"

"Understood." She says, knitting her brows. "How do we... start?"

Hunk quickly explains the process for making the cookies within the span of a couple minutes; eggs, butter and some sugar first. (He wonders acutely how Lotor can ingest as many of these as he does)

"Oh, no..." says Allura, "I think an eggshell may have fallen in."

She really can’t crack an egg to save her life. If it didn’t scare Hunk, he might’ve even found it cute.

"Crack it like this." He suggests, showing her the way he normally does it, soft enough that nothing goes flying but hard enough that it actually cracks.

She attempts it. It doesn’t work quite as well. (Hunk realizes she works out far too much to do something as fragile as cracking an egg) He puts her on mixing duty instead while he handles the finer details.

"You’re doing well." He chirps as she seems to glow beneath the praise. "Add some more flour."

"Right."

As he finishes the second bowl of dough, Hunk glances over to find that she is deep in concentration, mixing the contents like her life depends on it. Hunk used to bake to destress but it looked like Allura was just getting _more_ worked up.

Without thinking about it, he paints a stripe of flour across her cheek.

"Wh--Hunk!" She says admonishingly, scrubbing at her face. "What was that for?"

"You’re too serious." He quips as he does it again, but this time to her forehead. "Relax!"

She glowers at him for five seconds flat before she slides a finger dipped in butter across the bridge of his nose and steps back. "Maybe you should do the same, Hunk."

"I used to be really competitive, I’ll have you know." He says, "Maybe I still am."

"What a coincidence." remarks Allura as she tosses a white chocolate chip into her mouth. "So am I."

"Oh, it’s _on_."

Hunk doesn’t know what possesses him to wage a full-on food fight with her, but by the end of it, they’re both covered in flour, tired, but laughing so hard they can barely breathe. He knows that if his boss walked in to see this, he was done for, and yet here he was, throwing caution to the wind and actually having fun.

"What was the point of this?" wonders Allura as she experimentally licks at the particles on her fingers and winces. "Ugh, salt."

"Hmm, I dunno." Hunk says, perking up as the oven dings. Somehow during their war, they’d managed to get the cookies into the oven which had now finished baking. As he brings the cookies out and lets them cool, he takes a bite of one on the first platter and then hands her one from the second. "Be careful, it’s still hot."  

"Life is too short to wait." She says wisely, biting the cookie. Instantly, her eyes light up and she lets out a sigh of contentment. "Oh, wow... it’s delicious."

"Those are yours." He tells her, closing the oven and leaning against the counter. "I let you mix those ones while I did the other one. Notice how great it is?"

She nods.

"You have it in you to do anything you set your mind to, Allura. Even though you’ve never made these cookies before, you managed to do an amazing job!" He explains, "You can do the same thing with Voltron."

She stares at the half cookie in her hand and frowns. "Do you really believe that?"

"I promise." He says earnestly. "You can do it."

She looks up at him and for the first time ever, Hunk can see fierce determination shining in her eyes. "You’re right... I should go speak with Ulaz immediately." She finishes the rest of the cookie and then smiles gently. "Thank you."

"Hey, no problem." He says as she ambles closer to him. "Do you need a ride bac--?"

Before Hunk can finish his sentence, Allura has leaned to the tips of her toes and was pecking his cheek with featherlight softness. "T-There was some sugar." She whispers as she pulls back with a completely satisfied grin on her face. "Got to go!"

Hunk waits until she disappears before he drops the cookie in his hand and grapples for a bottle of water in the fridge, hurriedly drinking it down to relieve his hurt tastebuds.

He didn’t have the heart to tell her that the cookie she’d eaten was his. Or that the ones she’d actually made were salty and did in fact have egg shells in them.

Realizing that he’d been left behind, Hunk lets out a shriek and runs after her. "Allura! Wait!!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *banging pots and pans together* i love hallura


	6. episode 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dealing with his own self-doubt, lance turns to keith to shed some light on his situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy belated birthday to our boy, keith. here is some gratuitous klance content to make up for the fact that i can’t write a birthday fic to save my life, yayyy.

Lance scrolls through the comments on his latest Instagram photo, realizing with a heavy heart that this mess would follow him for weeks to come.

Every single comment had something to do with the interview that hadn't necessarily made its way onto the internet, but may as well have been released down to the itty, gritty details.

The magazine had released a statement that due to "difficulties", the interview wasn't going to be released. Hira herself had also issued an apology to all the readers, blah, blah--but it was all a front.

"Lance?"

He looks up at the call of his name, meeting eyes with his publicist, Colleen Holt, who was of course, related to Matt. It seemed that the ability to micromanage ran in the family. She frowns, "Don't tell me you're looking at the comments."

"Something must've happened to cause him to not let the interview go viral," He reads aloud, "Is he hiding something? Hey, maybe he's just throwing a diva fit and--"

"Okay, enough." She says, snatching the phone from his hand. "Hira isn't someone we should be making enemies with. The fact that she released this statement and opted to not put that interview up means that she's playing it safe."

"I thought you spoke to her." Lance mutters, trying to reach for the phone.

"I did. This was the outcome." Colleen responds, holding it out of reach. "While I may have smoothed things over with her for now, you're another story. What happened during that interview, Lance?"

"Shiro already told yo--"

"I want to hear it from _you_."

He falls silent, mulling over the question. There was a part of him that was saying the interview had been completely fine, but another part was telling him it was unacceptable. And it all centered around Hira's overuse of the pronouns 'she'. He groans, "I don't know... It just made me feel weird."

"I get that she was very invasive." She says, softly this time. "But what part was it that tipped you off? These people need a disclaimer as to what they can and can't say and until yesterday, you didn't have anything that was off-limits. So what was it?"

He inhales sharply. "She kept asking if I had a girlfriend!"

"Alright." Colleen says placatingly, "And? Many interviewers have asked those types of questions. What was it about this one?"

"She kept insinuating it was a she." He blurts out, eyes widening as soon as he says it.

"And the heterosexism made you uncomfortable." She finishes, somehow taking the words (the politically correct words) right out of his mouth. "Don't look so surprised, Lance. I have two kids, neither of which are fully cisgender or heterosexual. I know a term or two."

"Colleen," He grumbles, looking up at her, "I don't do that identifying thing. I've always just been Lance!"

"You may not like labels but they help a lot." His publicist says wryly. "I won't push you to tell me what exactly is going on. But it's a time-sensitive matter. As soon as you feel comfortable with yourself, come talk to me so I know what to do."

Lance nods glumly. "Thanks, Colleen..."

"I may be your manager but I'm also a mom." She smiles, "Figuratively speaking, I might as well be yours."

"Alright, can't argue with that." He nods and stands up, brushing off dust from his jeans and stretching. "This was a looong meeting."

"You can go back to the studio now. Where's Shiro?" wonders Colleen, peering at the doorway curiously.

"He decided to stay in the car." Lance responds. It isn't like he needs his bodyguard at all times (though it is technically Shiro's job). The safest place besides heaven itself is the agency. Everything is cushy and warm and Lance knows everyone who works here either personally or by name.

He takes his cellphone from Colleen and types up a quick message to Shiro, letting him know he was coming down to the lobby.

"Hmm, scared to meet his future mother-in-law?" She muses, tapping a finger against her chin. "He has no reason to be. I've known him since he and Matt were ten."

"Guess you really approve of their relationship, huh?" He laughs. Lance feels a bit like an outsider since he hadn't met Matt or Shiro until starting to work on Voltron. There was this whole inner circle he had no idea of. "Anyways, he just wanted to avoid Slav."

She pauses, "Slav barricaded himself in the office hours ago. Something about there being a 2% chance of him falling down the stairs and breaking a hip..."

That did sound like Slav. Lance smiles, "I'll get going. Thanks for everything."

She waves him goodbye and he makes his escape down to the lobby where Shiro is waiting pensively. As soon as he sees Lance he motions to him and they speed-walk (Lance speed-walks to match pace with Shiro) to the car. "Slav is occupied." Lance informs him.

"Don't say his name." hisses Shiro as he starts the car and drives off. When they merge onto the highway, he broaches the topic. "How did it go?"

"She thinks I have to reassess myself."

"Colleen's right." He nods, "You handled the interview well, but others might not go as smooth. It's time to figure out what makes you upset and why."

"...Hey, Shiro... How did you know you were, uh... bi?"

His bodyguard falls silent as he changes lanes. "A new boy transferred into my high school and told me he that was gay. His influence played a part in me figuring out that I might like boys too. That's all."

Lance frowns. "Man, I really don't get it."

"Same, Lance..." admits Shiro, with a sigh. "Same."

As the studio comes into view, Lance prepares to throw himself wholeheartedly into acting and forget about this entire debacle. The last thing he needed was a wrench thrown into his work. If he had no idea who he was as a person, at least he knew who he was as a character. Blue.

As they hop out of the vehicle and Lance makes a getaway into the studio, he catches sight of his fellow actors conversing on the sidelines. Hunk isn't there, but his food is. His mouth is watering for a handful of pretzels...

"Lance!"

He turns in the direction of a voice, finding Ezor running towards him, wearing her CGI-suit. That meant they were probably filming another group scene, since they'd told him he absolutely had to come in today.

"Hey, what's up?" He asks as a makeup artist ushers him into a seat and begins to dot at his face with all of the necessary makeup.

"Allura's acting got so much better." She gushes, "Yesterday she was all sad, I totally thought Ulaz was going to replace her but damn! Good shit!"

Lance glances over where true to her words, Allura is tearing up the set, completely owning the flashback scene she was filming. He can see glimpses of the tear stains on her face--and it looks so real. "I didn't expect any less of her. Allura's amazing."

"Yeah, I wonder what changed?"

He might have an idea. Lance makes a mental note to thank Hunk for whatever it is he did, because it worked like a charm.

As soon as Ulaz motions for the scene to stop, the crew around Allura breaks out into applause and the director himself seems pleased.

"All done, Mr. Mcclain." says the MUA as his paladin armour is being handed to him before he can so much as blink. "Your scene is up next."

"Hey, what scene is this?" He asks Ezor as he slides the armour on. "The one before the attack?"

"No, it's the first time forming Voltron one." She answers, "We're trying it again 'cause Allura saw the light--"

"Laaaaance!!"

The actor in question shrieks as someone attaches themselves to his back, and he squirms as Matt Holt breaks free, a clipboard in hand and several words scrawled all the way up his arm in marker. He’s in full work mode, which indicates that Lance had better listen and not give him a hard time.

As he rattles off a list of what he should have prepared for the scene, Lance wonders if he realizes that Shiro is walking up to him right then. He stays silent, smiling good-naturedly as Shiro winds an arm around Matt’s shoulders and kisses his temple. "You need to relax..."

"Shiro." mumbles Matt, tinging red. "Sorry, you’re right. But, Lance! Just--"

"Remember my pacing, I got it." He smiles, ignoring the tinge of envy he feels in his chest. It must be nice to be so... care-free. If they were dating now or not, Matt and Shiro were sickeningly cute... like a married couple.

Lance spins on his heel and marches towards Ulaz who easily points to where he should be standing. Allura, in full costume and pointed ears, smiles at him, "How was your day?"

"Eh, pretty shitty. Your face is making it better though, lovely Fallah." He says, fluttering his lashes as she scoffs and punches him in the shoulder. "You seen Hunk yesterday?"

Allura nods, but it looks a little suspicious to him. "Yes, we spoke. He’s at work today, isn’t he?"

"Yeah, he’ll be back tomorrow though, so fear not." He winks.

She furrows her brows. "What? Who was fearing?" It’s still suspicion-inducing to Lance, but he doesn’t push the subject as Acxa and Ezor saunter onto the set, followed at a much more lax pace by Lotor.

The man wearing the white wig smiles (also very suspicious to Lance) and says nothing. Lance mouths the word ‘weirdo’ to Allura when she sends him a questioning look. Lucky for them both, Lotor doesn’t notice.

"We’re starting! In your places!!" yells Matt as he obediently scurries behind Ulaz’s seat and skims through a handful of notes.

Lance pumps himself up to throw himself headlong into a depressed yet hopeful state. As soon as the cue rings out, the scene begins.

_"Red!" yells Green, rushing to her colleague’s side as he steadies himself on a pillar. "Are you sure you should be up?"_

_"The medic said I could." He mutters, inhaling shakily. "What... was happening here?"_

_Yellow frowns. "Totally not a fight or anything."_

_Blue smiles softly and takes a step forward. "You’re looking better. Does it still hurt?"_

_Red touches the spot where his ribcage lies and presses experimentally. "Just a twinge... but yes. We Galra heal quickly, at least."_

_"The perks of being an alien." jokes Blue before he looks beside him. The atmosphere dims as all attention becomes focused on Fallah._

_The new paladin--Black’s replacement--is barely shorter than him but her face burns as though all the attention of the world is centred on her._

_"I’m... sorry." She says quietly. "Hurting you was a massive error on my part. I know now that you--all of you--want to protect this universe... and it’s what the old paladin would have wanted." Fallah tentatively taps the helmet in her hand. "But if you would rather me leave, I understand as much as well."_

_Red stares at her cryptically before his eyes scan over the other paladins. "She proved that she can be ruthless in the face of battle, and while her judgement may have been askew, I don’t believe she wanted to kill me."_

_"I didn't!" She exclaims, clamping shut when Green crosses her arms. "I don’t anymore. My head was in the wrong place, I was... a stupid child."_

_"It was barely a few days ago." Blue says, but nods in understanding. "What do you think, Red?"_

_Red, to his credit, only sweeps white hair over his shoulder and approaches Fallah. He extends his hands, albeit unsteadily, and holds her helmet. "I think it is time we form Voltron."_

_Yellow gazes at her friend with worry, "As much as I would love to get back into our lions... you’re still kind of iffy. Are you sure you can do it?"_

_Red scoffs, "Yellow... Who do you think I am?"_

_"He’s the freakin Galran prince." says Blue, smirking with eyes full of mirth. "If anyone can survive being stabbed in the chest, several botched blood transfusions, and dealing with me?" He pauses, "It’s him."_

_"Good to know you have faith in me." Red says, turning to the lions with a definite nod. "Let’s form Voltron."_

_" **CUT**!"_

Lance breaks character and they are all immediately met by applause from the crew on set. He scratches his cheek sheepishly and looks to Ulaz who looks more than pleased. In fact, he thinks he can almost see a smile on his grouchy director’s face.

"Good take?" asks Ezor as she stretches exaggeratedly. "You were great, Allura!"

The woman in question flushes, "Thank you..."

Lance wonders if the praise was still new to her even if she was owning her role exactly as he’d expected her to. Allura was made to be the black paladin (although Lance still thought his friend Sven was the best).

Acxa sighs, "I didn’t like the way my line came out."

"It was the first one." deadpans Lance, "And it was _good_."

"I beg to differ--" Lotor suddenly says, finally speaking out of character. "Acxa was fine. But you were not."

It takes Lance a minute to realize that Lotor was addressing him. But when it dawned on him, he was instantly on the offence. "Yeah? What was so bad about it?"

"You’re not in the right headspace." He explains flatly, "Something must clearly be more important than this scene... Perhaps an interview gone wrong, Mcclain?"

He was doing it on purpose. Lance’s hands curl into fists. "What’re you getting at?"

"Why don’t you tell everyone exactly what happened during yesterday’s interview? It affects us all, after all." Lotor goads. "Seeing as how you might have mucked up that entire magazine for the rest of us and--"

"Talk out of your ass some other time, you--!"

"I see no need when I already know _exactly_ what happened."

Without even intending to, Lance sees red (no pun intended) and he pounces. Allura yells for him to stop, but he doesn’t care; he’s already lunging for the neck of the damn asshole who thinks he can provoke him without any repercussions.

"Lance, stop!" Large arms grab him by the waist and forcefully pull him away from Lotor. He doesn’t need to turn to know that somehow Shiro had reached him before hell broke out. "Stop it--He’s not worth it!"

"You don’t know a thing about me!" Lance shouts, just as his temper begins to dwindle.

He can finally see that Lotor doesn’t appear at all fazed by Lance’s outburst. In fact, he seems pleased. The sight of him makes him somehow angrier but he holds himself back from doing any more harm than he should.

"He’s taking ten." Shiro announces, leading Lance away and down to his dressing room.

He doesn’t dare look behind him to wager an idea as to what the rest of his colleagues were beginning to think.

"Lance, he was trying to get a rise out of you." His bodyguard informs him, "And you played into his trap."

"Who does he think he is?" Lance fumes, loosening his fists as he looks at the crescent moons in his palms. "It’s not like I went _in_ there to screw up the entire magazine for everyone else!"

Shiro exhales and leans against the doorframe. "Drink some water and cool off, alright? I’ll be back in a second." He disappears through the door and it clicks shut behind him.

Lance throws himself into the couch and scrubs a hand through his hair. He obediently takes a sip of water and finds that it isn’t doing enough for him. Lance is no alcoholic, so he won’t be turning to vodka for relief. He has a better idea, although it isn’t a guarantee that it would even work.

His hands find his cellphone almost instinctively and he searches for Keith’s number in his contacts. As soon as he finds it, he pauses for a moment and then hits **‘call’.**

* * *

"You know that woman who works the celeb column on Non-Cog Weekly? She had an interview with Lance Mcclain, or at least... she was supposed to."

Keith, in between transitioning from one class to the next, pauses at the mention of the celebrity’s name who was in his contact list. Nothing could possibly be weirder than having an... acquaintance who was popular and beloved. "Oh yeah?" He asks, entertaining his friend’s remarks. "Did something happen?"

Samantha, blonde hair tugged up into twin pigtails, nods conspiratorially. "Something bad, I bet. She put out a statement that said she wasn’t going to release it because something went wrong. I wonder what went down?"

Another friend also walking down the hall with them, chimes into the conversation. "I’d bet any amount of money that she asked something private and he flipped out. Mcclain seems like a nice guy but even he’d have his limits, you know?"

"Maybe he just threw a diva fit." Samantha suggests, "I mean he’s rich enough for it."

"Girl, I could throw a fit right now and I’m broker than shit."

"Okay, bad example but you get what I mean." The blonde says. "Any ideas, Keith?"

He opens his mouth to blather an excuse for leaving, just as his cellphone rings. Keith digs it out of the pocket of his jacket and blanches.

**’Lance is calling’**

"Shit... go on without me!" He yells as he makes a sharp turn to the nearest bathroom and hurriedly pulls out his cellphone. "Hello?"

_"Hey, man. You busy?"_

The unusually sullen tone in Lance’s voice is anything but welcoming. Keith feels a sense of foreboding as he adjusts the phone and sticks his headphones into the port. "I just finished my first class but I can talk."

Somehow, he doesn’t feel like telling Lance that he has to be at his next class within the next seven minutes. It sounds important.

A thought occurs to Keith all of a sudden and he forcefully puts a hand over his mouth to keep from blurting out a question about the interview.

 _"Really needed to talk to someone."_ Lance sighs raggedly. _"See, uh... I guess you might not know, but there was an interview yesterday."_

Oh, thank god. He was approaching the topic himself. "Oh... yeah?" He asks, although he already knows all about it.

 _"I completely botched it. 100%. Never seen something so humilating in my life but... I don’t think it was my fault. The lady wanted to know everything down to the bone about who I was dating and--"_ Lance stops. _"Maybe I_ am _just being stupid."_

Keith furrows his brows. "What are you talking about? If you didn’t want to talk about it, she didn’t have any reason to pry. Just because you’re famous doesn’t mean she has a right to know everything there is to know about you."

Lance falls quiet. Keith almost thinks he may have hung up, but then he hears quiet laughter from the other end.

_"How do you always know what to say, Mullet?"_

The statement renders Keith speechless as he swallows harshly. Lucky for him, Lance has already continued speaking.

 _"You working tonight? I could_ really _use some pizza..."_

"Just pizza?" Keith wonders, eyes widening when he realizes what he’d implied.

Lance laughs. _"Okay... some onion rings too."_

"That’s better." He says dryly, "Order for around 8. I’ll be there."

 _"Thanks, Keith. For everything."_ says Lance, and then the call ends.

Keith stares at the dim screen for all of three seconds before he remembers that he needs to get to the other end of the building within the next two minutes. He slams the door open and takes off in a run, flustered expression be damned.

* * *

Keith gets to Lance’s loft and sees no signs of the SUV that Shiro drives in sight. He’s either out or Lance isn’t in. Pizza in hand (a proper sausage pizza this time, thank god), he climbs the steps to the front door and rings the doorbell.

It swings open moments later to reveal Lance, whose hair is slightly wet and he looks... awkward and out of place. "Hey, thanks for coming." He says, letting Keith into the house without any other comment about his hair or his bike or... anything.

The last time he’d been in here, Lance had regaled him with stories of his job with a wide and unapologetic grin. Now, everything was much more subdued.

Keith toes off his shoes and follows Lance in to the living room but instead of going to the couch, the actor gestures to the staircase that leads to the upper floor. "Mind coming up or...?"

Keith’s mind whirls through a couple awful and generic scenarios which he forcefully pushes away. "Okay." He tries to pretend as though his voice hadn’t cracked and he wasn’t nervous or anything.

Lance’s room is not what he expected. Keith’s idea of a celebrity’s room was a waterbed, framed photographs of said celebrity, awards and awards and tons of unnecessary antiques.

Lance’s room is bizarrely none of these things.

There is a quaint queen-sized bed in colours of white and brown. The walls are a similar colour--and there are no photographs of Lance... but there are some of other people who (while bear a resemblance to him) are not him.

On top of Lance’s bed is an acoustic guitar. "Oh, sorry. I was just dicking around."

As he moves to put it away, Keith stops him with a question. "Can you play?"

Lance blinks, "A bit, yeah. My dad used to teach me when I was..." He gestures overhead to the photos. "Back home."

Keith places the pizza down on the floor in front of him and slowly lowers himself to the rug. He crosses his legs and waits patiently for Lance to make a move. "Then play something."

"Damn, alright. Pushy." jokes Lance (though it doesn't really bring a smile to his face) as he produces his guitar pick and slowly begins to strum. It isn’t a tune that Keith knows, nor does it sound that familiar. At the very least, it has a pretty melody.

He bites into an onion ring, and jolts when Lance actually begins to _sing_. Even with the lyrics, he doesn’t know the song and even though it’d probably be worthwhile to ask, he can’t bring himself to do so.

Lance just looks so peaceful when he’s singing.

By chance, the actor looks up at Keith and tilts his head to the side. "You good?"

"No--yeah! I’m great!" He sputters, wanting to hit himself for it. "I... didn’t know you could sing."

Lance grins. "Why, Keith, I’m not just a pretty Hollywood face. How could you?"

"You’re an actor, not a singer." He stresses, "It was just--nevermind."

"I'm kiddinggg. Was it any good though? My singing?"

Keith holds himself back from being overzealous. He had an incredibly pretty voice for someone who could be irritating as hell. "Yeah, it was nice... What, ah, song was that?"

"Oh, it’s called Bright Blue." says Lance, "I just thought it had a cute tune."

When the conversation fizzles out, Keith realizes that he really has to goad Lance into talking about what was bothering him. "Look. I’m not good at advice. But... you can talk to me about... the interview, if you want. I’ll listen."

Lance falls silent before he sighs. "Thanks, Keith... it’s just... I don’t know why I got as mad as I did. She asked about my girlfriend."

"You--?" He pauses, "You have a girlfriend?"

"What? No." He shakes his head, "No, Keith, I... don’t freak out, okay?"

"Okay?"

Lance takes a deep breath. "...I think I’m bisexual."

Before Keith can even formulate a reply, the taller boy is already jumping for a way to explain himself. "Please don’t be weird or anything! I just, kinda think that guys are cute too...? I’ve had girlfriends before but like... Guys are... not bad either? Is that weird? It must sound weird..."

Keith rolls his eyes. "I’m gay, Lance."

"You-- _huh_?"

"I’m gay." He says slowly, enunciating every word with utmost stress. "I’ve known since I was in high school. It doesn’t bother me."

Lance doesn’t say a word.

Keith finally meets his gaze and finds that Lance’s ears are red at the tips and he has the most unreadable expression on his face. "What?" He manages, knowing for a fact that his face probably looked about the same way.

"Nothing, I’m just learning something new about you everyday, Mullet." He says, pushing his hair back with a radiant smile.

To that, Keith has no idea what to say. So he leans forward, instead.

* * *

 

"Lotor, why did you argue with Lance today?" asks Acxa as she wipes away her blue-tinted makeup from the late-night shoot. "You’ve always spoken... highly about his acting."

"Yeah, it wasn’t noticeably bad. I didn't think anything was up with him." agrees Ezor, leaning forward in her chair. "What’re you thinking?"

Lotor removes his pointed ear prosthetic as his eyes brighten. "Something happened during that interview. I can feel it... and I plan to get to the bottom of it."

"You think Lance is hiding something?" whispers Ezor, perplexed. "He’s always been kinda... transparent."

"Everyone has a secret, Ezor." The man in question says as he smiles darkly. "I _know_ that he's hiding something from us."

He slowly removes his cellphone from his pocket and dials a number on screen. "Tell Zethrid to bring the car around." He says commandingly while Acxa reluctantly texts their friend. Ezor furrows her brows and watches the ensuing act in confusion.

Lotor falls silent for all of three seconds before the call connects and his expression turns faux-polie. "Hello, Hira. It’s me. I was wondering if you could spare a moment to chat..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and the plot thickens...
> 
> also, [bright blue](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gpOu6jK5BXo) by daniela andrade. (not saying it’s a klance song... but it’s a klance song)


	7. episode 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> love is in the air for allura and hunk. elsewhere, the netflix studio drops some news on lance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apply to university, they said. it’ll be fun, they said.
> 
> kill me...

Keith's eyes widen as he realizes just what he was about to do. His conscience was screaming in a continuous loop for him to abort mission, to stop looking at Lance Mcclain's lips, to stop pining after someone he really, really shouldn't mess with--

So he adheres and pulls back, nearly slamming his head against the bed frame as he does so. "I should, uh... I should go." He stammers, scrambling to his feet. "Katie, my roommate... She er, needs my help with... something."

Lance blinks, reaching an arm out, "Keith, wait up--"

"Sorry, I'll talk to you later!" He says quickly as he makes a mad dash for the stairs. Moments later the front door opens and shuts and Lance lets his arm drop to his side.

"...You forgot your jacket?" He finishes lamely, pursing his lips. "...Guess I'm keeping it."

It seemed as though they would never actually get around to returning each other's jackets. At the very least... Lance did feel better now. His eyes land on the aforementioned coat as he slowly shuffles towards it and hangs it up behind his door.

His mind shoots back to what had happened, and how Keith's eyes had landed on his mouth... He subconsciously licks his lips and his cheeks heat up tellingly.

Lance knows he can be pretty oblivious to intentions... But was he really so wrong to think that Keith might've been thinking of kissing him just a minute ago?

A part of him wished he had.

"Damn it." He groans. "I'm screwed."

* * *

The Pro Tem agency was buzzing with the employees as they worked, exchanging hushed words as the exchange of a century took place just behind the closed doors of one of the meeting rooms.

Lotor had heard it all before. The surprise, the wonder as to why someone of great importance to the firm had decided to grace the lowly Pro Tem branch. If the woman in front of him was 'important', then he was the bloody Queen of England.

"I rarely come here, to this city." spits his oh-so-dutiful publicist, Haggar. "This had better be important."

"I never asked you to come all this way. I merely asked for counsel." Lotor replies, crossing his arms over his chest. "My father sent you, didn't he?"

"Yes, he fears you will make a mockery of the name without me here."

He snorts. He knows for a fact that Hghar was sent to be a spy for his father. "I've been just fine without you, Haggar. How long have I been acting?"

"Acting like a _fool_?" She quips with a scoff. "What did you want to ask?"

Lotor inclines his head, letting a tendril of dark hair slip down his shoulder. Out of his Red costume, his real hair was pitch black. In costume, he was white-haired and purple-skinned. It was a wonder the makeup hadn't damaged his skin yet. "Ah, yes. If someone were to come out before the season was released, would it be smart or stupid?"

Haggar stares at him for a moment before her eyes narrow. "Is there something you want to tell me, Lotor?"

He waves his hand dismissively. "If I had anything of that nature to tell you, you would be the _first_  to know. Trust me." A total lie. He might tell her somewhere along that line but certainly not first.

Unfazed, she drums her fingers against the table in front of them. "I would advise against it. Coming out without informing the network could throw a wrench in the promotional material for the show... and put a dent in the viewership."

"As I thought." He hums, "What are the demographics for Voltron, again?"

"Adolescents and adults. And before you ask, yes, mostly heterosexual. That’s what the polls say, at least."

He knows this, but hearing Haggar reiterate it fills him with a high. Lotor hums a sound of acknowledgement, his fingers searching the insides of his pocket where the square flash drive sits securely. "Would Netflix frown upon an abrupt coming-out statement?"

"Yes, they would." She says, "Lotor, if you have something to confess then you had better tell me n--"

"I don’t." He interjects boredly. "Thank you for your time. I have scenes to shoot now."

He can acutely hear her calling after him as he stands and strides out of the room and out of the building. He doesn’t adhere though, he just keeps walking. As soon as he can see his vehicle, he removes the flash drive and stares at it fondly.

A bland little thing, really--from the outside. But the inside, well, Lotor can only imagine just what it could do to the world once out. He flips the black USB over and reads the label for what must be the hundredth time. 

_**'Hira — L. Mcclain Interview [DO NOT PUBLISH]'**_

* * *

"Another costume change?" Allura balks, staring at Matthew Holt as he explains the next course of events. "I’ve never worn this outfit before."

"It was rewritten just a second ago, sorry about that." Matt says bashfully. "Uh, if you go through there, Shay can get you fitted."

She obediently allows herself to be ushered into the costume area where a tall woman wearing a bright smile is waiting with another dress, this one more extravagant and detailed than she has ever seen. "Hello." says Allura politely, "We’ve not met before, have we?"

"No, we haven’t." The woman says and even her voice is soft. "My name is Shay, I’m one of the designers who--um, well I made this."

As Allura takes the dress and marvels at its detail, her eyes widen. "You did? It’s beautiful."

"Thank you." Shay smiles, "Let’s see if it fits okay."

While getting fitted in to the dress, Allura makes sure to commit the designer’s name to memory. It had become a habit of hers to at least know the names of the people who worked with her. Lance did it, and he even knew a couple things to make conversation about with the crew. It would be beneficial to follow in her colleague’s footsteps, in that regard.

"I know you probably hear this often..." Shay begins, "But your acting is really great."

Allura already knows that it code for ‘it finally improved’ but the way nice people phrase it. "Thank you," She replies, "Someone important to me helped me get there." Hunk. She means Hunk, but she just doesn’t want to name-drop yet.

Shay gives her a radiant smile, not saying much of anything. But to Allura, it already says enough. The person must be really special. Hunk is that person, one hundred percent.

But then Shay says something that catches Allura offguard.

"It was Hunk, wasn’t it?"

Her head snaps upwards, "How did you know that?"

"We have history together." Shay responds, "He’s worth holding onto, Allura. I promise."

"I--" It isn’t that she doesn’t believe Shay. She definitely knows that Hunk is worth any amount of obstacles. "I’ll take your word for it...?"

What she wants to know is what _kind_ of history that is. The sinking feeling in her gut tells her that she already knows. The other half of her is telling her that it really doesn’t matter.

As soon as the costume is fitted and the scene is scheduled to start, Allura flies out of the room and dials Lance’s number, not wanting to discuss this with him over text.

 _"Allura, what’s up?"_ He asks as the call crackles to life.

"Hello, Lance. Can you tell me who Shay is?" She realizes belatedly that she should’ve waited before cutting to the chase because if Lance was suspicious before, he’d be even more so now.

_"Shay? Yeah, the head costume designer."_

"I know that much, I just mean... er," Now that she is vocalizing it, it seems like a shitty thing to ask. "How does she know Hunk?"

 _"Huh? Shouldn’t you ask him that?"_ Lance wonders and then laughs, " _Oh, wait, you’re jeal--"_

"No!" She interjects, trailing off uncertainly, "I’m not! I just... curiosity... and..." 

Lance scoffs. _"Riiiiiight. I’ll tell you, but only since Hunk would’ve probably had to tell you soon anyways."_

"Allura, we’re starting in five." whispers Matt as she unsticks the phone from her ear and nods quickly.

_"They were into each other but they didn’t get any further since Shay’s leaving."_

"She’s leaving?"

 _"Yeah, she’s transferring to another show in Santa Barbara in a week. They didn’t start anything they couldn’t finish, so..."_ She could almost hear the smirk in his voice. _"Congrats, Princess. He’s all yours."_

"Wh--shut up, Lance..." She coughs, "Oh, I have to go. See you when you get here."

_"Remember to use prote--!"_

Allura hangs up on him and sighs, shoulders sinking with relief. So Shay was leaving this specific show and using her talents elsewhere. Well, that was probably a good thing. She had skill that should be used all over the place--whichever show she worked with next was lucky to have her.

Her relief is short-lived though as the phone rings again and this time, Hunk’s name lights up the screen.

Moment of truth... Why did he always seem to have such good timing?

She brings the phone back to her ear, inhaling sharply. "Hi, Hunk."

" _Hey, sorry I can’t come to the studio today. Got a test, y’know?"_

"Not a problem." She responds, thinking that this made things easier for her. "I wanted to ask you something though. Do you have a minute?"

There is shuffling from the other end before she can hear a book shut. _"Uh-huh, what’s up?"_

It was now or never. "Are you free on Saturday?"

 _"Uh... Yeah!"_ He says, " _Wait, why’d you ask? Do you need help running lines? I help Lance with that all the time, no prob. I can even imitate Red’s accent, check it."_ Hunk clears his throat, " _How foolish do you believe me to b--"_

"Hunk." deadpans Allura. "I’m asking you on a date."

Silence stretches on for a moment before Allura clutches the phone to her ear, straining to hear if Hunk was even still on the other end.

 _"That was--"_ He coughs, finally speaking. _"That was really cute, sorry... you really caught me off guard there, Allura..."_

"S-Sorry..." She mumbles, barely resisting the urge to begin chewing on her nails with worry. "So, um, was that a yes or...?"

 _"No! Yeah, it was--uh, let me try that again."_ He takes a breath. _"I would love to... do that, with you."_

"Alright... great." She replies, trying to pretend that the way he somehow couldn’t bring himself to say _date_ was cute. "It’s a date."

The only response she gets from that is a garbled and flustered ‘Alluraaa, stoppp’ and then the call disconnects. For a moment, everything feels good and right with the world and she’s sitting on a throne of clouds up in the air.

...And then the reality of the situation hits her, bringing her back down to the ground.

"Oh my god." She whispers, aghast. "I’ve never been on a date."

* * *

Lance stares at the phone in his hand, the fresh icon of Allura having hung up on him flashing in its wake.

He knows it was well-deserved but he really couldn’t help it. Lance smiles, giving it a total five minutes before Hunk calls him in a frenzy.

He also knows his friend doesn’t need advice, certainly not his, when it comes to dates but a part of him still hopes that Hunk will still call or text or do something to tell him that Allura went through with it.

(The girl is determined and self-assured, and Lance can appreciate that.)

"What was that about?" wonders Shiro, eyes focused on the road. "Was that Allura?"

"Yeah, she’s got boy troubles." He sighs wistfully. "Can’t relate." Lance pauses, almost expecting that Shiro would scoff in disbelief, but he doesn’t. Therefore, his cover isn’t blown yet. "So, you enjoy your night?"

"It always feels like you’re trying to imply something whenever you speak to me." His bodyguard remarks, "It was nice. You?"

Lance has the self-control to at least not laugh loudly. If only he’d had an uneventful evening. "Uhh, everything was fine. Nothing weird here."

"That doesn’t sound convincing." He says as he switches lanes. "Colleen left me a message for you. There’s a meeting at the Netflix building about Voltron and she wants you there too."

"Sounds pretty important."

Shiro nods. "Must be if the other publicists are going too."

That was news to him. The actor sits up, "Really?" He can only stand to wonder what it was all for. "I’ll call her when I get there. What time?"

"3:30."

He had an early wrap then. Lance stretches, jolting as his phone on his lap buzzes suddenly. The flashing notification of Hunk having sent a text lights up his screen. Right on time, like he expected.

> **[10:42 AM] Hunky-boo:** LANCE ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW IM FREAKIGN OU T DJJF
> 
> **[10:42 AM] Hunky-boo:** SHE ASKE D ME ON A D A TE HOLY SHiT

Lance clicks the message to reply, already grinning ear to ear at the thought of his friend physically launching himself into the sun if he didn’t hype him up.

Before he can get very far, another string of messages lights up the top of his screen.

> **[10:43 AM] Allura:** am i a dumbass??? i asked hunk on a date.,,, lance heLP
> 
> **[10:43 AM] Allura:** I’VE NEVER BEEN ON A DATE
> 
> **[10:43 AM] Allura:** unless my fourth grade crush counts but all she did was take me to the mall with her mum and buy me one of those slappy-hand toys

He snorts, "This is going to be a mess."

Well, he wasn’t called lover boy for nothing. He adored seeing a good match (which was definitely Hunk and Allura) get together, especially if he was forced to get involved, kind of like now.

Lance texts a quick reply to Hunk telling him to breathe and study for his test before he worries himself into oblivion. He lets Allura know that he’ll help her out when he gets to the studio, and then his eyes lock onto the other most-recent contact on his list.

He should probably text Keith, see what he’s up to, bother him a bit... but he can’t physically bring himself to do so.

If Hunk and Allura were knee-deep in distress, then Lance was drowning in an ocean of it.

As Shiro parks the car and they step out, now in the parking lot leading to the studio, Lance can hear the telltale sound of screaming fans. He’d actually missed it and from the looks of it, Shiro was going to relent. "Five minutes." He sighs. " _Five_."

"You got it, chief." He sings as he saunters towards the crowd of adoring fans situated near the entrance.

For a moment, it feels like everything is back to normal. Like the whole interview debacle was behind him and gone altogether.

Lance gets to work, signing autographs and posing for photos--just like the good old days. Shiro remains close by, keeping watch over his charge like the dutiful bodyguard he is.

"L-Lance!" squeaks a smaller girl in the front. Despite being jostled by everyone around her, she still manages to hold her ground. She squeezes her eyes shut and thrusts a tiny purple animal towards him. "This is for you!"

He tilts his head as he takes in the plush toy before him. It was a hippo. Most people would give him something cuter and blue but... well, this was new. He gingerly takes the animal and smiles. "Thank you, what’s your name?"

"Jordan!"

He thanks her again and even offers to take a photo holding the hippo and post it later, which he’ll probably do since he needs more pics on his Instagram anyways.

Shiro ushers him into the studio, telling him that it was high time he went to work, and after blowing some more kisses to his fans, Lance twirls into the studio.

Matt is on him in an instant, stress radiating off his body. "Hey, Lance! We’re blocking the fight scene so go check with your stunt double."

"Oooh, is Antok here already? Been a while since I saw that guy." His body double is a slightly taller, similarly built stuntman with very few words. While Lance can talk for ages, given a proper opening and topic... his double is very hesitant to say much of anything.

Lance bounces off to get suit up into his paladin uniform, and prepares to throw himself into his next scene. Texting Keith would just have to be put off until later.

* * *

The meeting takes place in one of the Netflix buildings used solely for management. Lance spends most of his days in the Marmora Studios and hardly ever steps foot in this one. He can recall his first couple auditions for Voltron having been in his usual studio too.

Lance is brought to the meeting room by one of the employees and sees both Acxa and Colleen, the latter of which is nursing a cup of coffee standing by a chair. She waves him over and he takes a seat happily, having been running and jumping all over the place earlier. Filming fight scenes was a lot more difficult than it looked. "Hiya, Colleen. How’s it?"

"I’m stressed, Lance." She complains, "They already let slip what’s going on."

He furrows his brows. "Is someone getting cut? Are the budgets low or--"

"You’re being upgraded to the main character."

"I--what?!" He manages, his mind zipping through the past seasons. He’d always been a co-lead, along with Red and Black. That was how it went. Suddenly becoming _the_ lead was... unimaginable. "Holy shit."

She nods, "A rep is coming to talk to me about your new contract, but your paycheque is going to increase by a lot."

He frowns. "I thought we already worked out that I don’t want a higher cheque unless the others are getting the same." Lance wagers a glance at Acxa who seemed more or less uninterested by everything that was going on.

"That was when you were on an equal playing field." explains Colleen, "Now, you’re a cut above the others, therefore you have to take an increase."

Lance knew it was probably fruitless to plead his case here, especially since this money would come into use soon if he was going to be sending some more home for his family. "Anything else you think they’re gonna talk about?"

"Nothing you need to worry about, just sit back and listen."

That, he can do.

A Netflix spokesman enters the room and shuts the door behind him, initiating the beginning of the meeting. Colleen takes diligent notes, alternating between asking questions and listening to other people who speak up in equal measure.

Lance admires his publicist’s dedication and remembers that the entire Holt family was similar to her. Granted, he only knows one other member (Matt) but he’d assume the daughter and the husband had the same drive.

He mentally makes a note to get Colleen a bonus when the end of the year came around.

As the meeting stretches on, Lance learns the identities of the other publicists who represented Allura and Lotor’s entire team.

Coran was Allura’s publicist, a strange and earnest man who was rocking a ginger mustache that Lance would’ve killed to have. His accent was difficult to decipher but after listening to him blather on about why Allura needed proper publicity before the season dropped as opposed to when it premieres, Lance could actually say that he understood it now.

The publicist who represents Lotor, Acxa, and Ezor is a singular woman who went by Haggar--a calm, collected and (if Lance was being honest) ghastly figure in the firm which Lotor was signed to.

Lance didn’t know much about the English politics, but he could tell that the Altea brand and the Pro Tem didn’t like one another very much. The tension was palpable. Thankfully, Colleen remained impartial to them both, and was the neutral party during the delegations that ensued during the meeting.

He learned that he was the alleged fan favourite, based on the research and surveys done amongst the viewership. Being the favourite let him reap the benefits of a pay increase, sponsorships and now, more lines and screentime. But the territory came with a price, just as he always knew it did. He had to keep himself in check at all given times.

"You can leave now, if you’d like." Colleen says when a short break is called. "It probably isn’t fair for me to keep you past 5."

"Thank you." He grins as he gets up and heads to the door. "See ya." The statement is mostly directed to everyone in the room but only Acxa and Colleen seem to register it, though the former barely waves goodbye.

Lance books it to the car where Shiro is on the phone with someone. "Meeting ended early." He whispers, hoping to not bother Shiro’s conversation since neither were in much of a rush to go home. "Let me run in for a coffee?"

"--Thank you and until next time." Shiro says as he disconnects the call and then slumps against the seat. "Get me a mocha too."

Lance blinks. "What was that about?"

"Uh..." His bodyguard sighs and slides a hand through his hair. "Therapy, actually."

This is the first Lance has heard of this and while it catches him by surprise, it isn’t that otherworldly. Shiro had dealt with quite a bit before obtaining his job as Lance’s bodyguard. In fact, Lance hadn’t even believed he’d last as long as he did... But still, everyone needed a bit of help sometimes.

"Let me know when you want a day off, Shiro." says Lance crossly, "I mean it’s only fair."

Shiro starts the car and smiles wryly. "Thank you, Lance. You’re right. It is only fair. Since you’re a heathen and all."

"I am not a heathen!" He protests, feigning hurt as the coffee shop literal inches away from the building comes into view. Lance slides his sunglasses on and throws his jacket on.

He hadn’t even realized that he’d grabbed Keith’s jacket until now. Maybe the paparazzi wouldn’t recognize him either. At the very least he’d be able to get a coffee without difficulty...

Lance gets in line and feels for his wallet in his pocket. The leather case and his phone are both in the same pocket, reminding him of all the texts he still had to reply to from both Allura and Hunk.

He’d given her some potential date ideas but had otherwise just advised her to do something that she thought she and Hunk could share. On the other hand, he’d told his best friend to stop worrying about dating an actress and just worry about dating Allura.

Whether or not his advice worked would remain to be seen. First, they had to _go_ on their date.

Despite the line-up, Lance can see the building across the street. It isn’t a commercial mall despite its size. The way it looks coupled with the style of lettering, it seems like a daycare. Upon closer inspection, Lance realizes that--

 _Oh_. It’s an orphanage.

As the line slowly begins to crawl and he nearly reaches the front, Lance notices someone achingly familiar to him pull up to the entrance to the orphanage, decked out in a dark shirt and a helmet tucked under an arm. The person turns, saying something to a hoard of children that only came up to about the hip.

Lance hesitates, and then he turns tail and leaves the line. He never would have expected to find Keith Kogane at an orphanage.

Not in his wildest dreams. 

**Author's Note:**

> have a bonding moment with me at my [tumblr.](https://wlwjirou.tumblr.com)


End file.
